Thank You, Whoever You Are
"Simon! Simon! Simon! Simon!"
As the crowd thundered his name in a deafening chant, Simon accepted the amplification crystal from the emcee.
"Now then, Simon! A few words on how you're feeling?"
The emcee winked. Simon raised the crystal to his lips.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Simon Polentia."
Since they'd asked, he went through the formalities—polite, expected, impossible to skip. He thanked the professors, thanked his legion members who had trained alongside him whenever they could spare a moment, and promised to work even harder from here on out.
The emcee, listening along, cut in at just the right moment.
"We can't talk about this BMAT without mentioning Deimos! I'm dying to know how you managed to obtain such a rare summon—and why you didn't craft it into a Nether Whale!"
Simon hesitated for a beat before answering. Do I really want Professor Walter knowing I went to the fish market?
He adjusted his answer slightly.
"I had help from my club senior, Venya Vanilla."
A successor of the Vanilla family belonged to the same club as him, and he'd acquired the corpse through her channels. He hadn't crafted it into a Nether Whale simply because the raw material's condition had been poor—but in the end, he'd obtained a Deimos skeleton that preserved the Alpha ability, so he considered it the best possible outcome.
Locking down every piece of sensitive information while still answering as smoothly as flowing water, Simon's eloquence left even the emcee nodding in satisfaction.
"Actually, I'd like to take this opportunity to offer some separate thanks. To Venya, and—oh!"
Simon's eyes went wide.
Among the sea of spectators, a group of cheering men stood out—and they looked remarkably familiar.
They came to watch!
Diego and his fellow artisans had come to attend the event in person.
Simon hurried to finish his sentence.
"I want to thank the master necromancers of the Vanilla workshop, who helped me perfect a Deimos I'd never worked with before—Diego, Marco, and Rodrion! They're here with us today!"
When Simon pointed toward them, the crowd's eyes followed. Applause rained down on the three men, whose awkward smiles were caught on the broadcast screen.
Given how much the Vanilla workshop had helped him through this third BMAT, a little free advertising at a moment like this seemed more than fair.
"And finally—your resolve for the future! One last word, please!"
Simon nodded at the emcee's request.
"I got lucky this time and took first place, but I believe that at any BMAT, any one of us could end up in the bottom fifty facing expulsion. I won't let my guard down—I'll keep working even harder. Thank you!"
And so, to a storm of applause, Simon safely wrapped up his interview and stepped off the stage, just as the emcee's voice rang out calling Elisa up for the next round.
"Well done."
Jane, arms crossed, spoke as he passed.
Simon bowed with a smile.
"Thank you, Professor! I'm back at first place, just like I said I'd be."
"Mm."
Simon scratched his head. She's pretty lukewarm about it. I figured she'd be happier, seeing as I took the top spot.
Jane stood there with a perfectly expressionless face—but hidden from the students' view, one arm was trembling with delight.
"Hello, everyone! I'm Elisa Celine!"
Having handed off his turn without incident, Simon settled in to listen to the other students' interviews with an easy mind.
Elisa's remarks ran a bit long.
She was grateful to her parents for giving her life, grateful to the wet nurse and maids who'd cared for her as a child, grateful to all her professors including her Spirit Studies instructor Umbra, grateful to every TA, grateful to the dormitory steward who'd provided her such a comfortable bed, grateful to the friend who'd lent her notes.
It felt less like an interview and more like a knighthood ceremony.
Unable to bear it any longer, the emcee finally cut her off and called the next student—by which point Elisa was thanking the name of the carriage driver who'd ferried her to Kizen on entrance day.
Next up was Raheim, who abruptly turned his back on the audience and shouted while pointing at Simon.
"Our duel in this exam ended in a draw, Jamon Villentor!"
Simon let out an awkward laugh. ...He's still doing that?
"Neither of us put the other out, right? Let's settle our duel over Meilin next time!"
Raheim's successor at the podium was Hector.
The moment the amplification crystal touched his hand, he took aim at Raheim.
"What a load of crap. The one who beats Simon Polentia is me."
Simon kept his composure and smiled, though the corners of his mouth were twitching.
I'm embarrassed, so quit bringing me up.
"And one more thing."
Hector turned his back fully to the crowd and glared at Simon with murderous eyes.
"Don't you dare think that seat is yours forever."
This was exactly the kind of provocative interview the emcee had been hoping for, and he lit up with excitement.
"Whoaaa! A declaration of war! Hector has declared war! Will these two settle the score at the fourth BMAT? Be sure to come out and watch the next exam as well! Now, then, our final interviewee tonight is...!"
Just then, a broadcast henchman darted up onto the stage and handed the emcee a slip of paper.
"Ah—it seems there will be a slight change of plans!"
The emcee glanced at the note.
"Jul, who was ranked third, is reportedly being treated in the infirmary for an injury. In his place, we'd like to bring up the student who took sixth place! Student ranked sixth in this exam—please come on up!"
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A girl was climbing the stairs to the stage.
Simon's jaw dropped.
"Here's the amplification crystal, student."
"Thank you."
Taking the crystal, she gave a soft "Ah, ah" to test her voice. Then, with a nervous expression, she opened her mouth.
"Um... hello. I'm Claudia Menzies."
Sixth place overall in the third BMAT.
It was none other than Claudia.
"Welcome, Claudia! One of the biggest stories of this third BMAT was the rise of the Toxicology aspirants! They showed overwhelming dominance out at sea—and among them, your growth was the most striking of all! Seven hundred and tenth place in the second BMAT, and now a stunning sixth overall!! Incredible! Do you have a secret to such explosive growth here at Kizen?"
Claudia answered with a stiff, tension-bound smile.
"I-it wasn't so much that I grew stronger myself... I think this third exam was simply a very favorable theme for Toxicology students. There were lots of venomous monsters, and out at sea, we toxicomancers were the only ones who could launch easy wide-area attacks."
The emcee clapped his hands together. He was no broadcasting veteran who'd let it slide at that.
"Hahaha! How modest! But isn't a rank of 'sixth overall' far too monumental to brush off as mere theme advantage? Surely a student such as yourself experienced some major shift in thinking—some revelation!"
Claudia nodded slowly and continued her answer.
Nerves in front of the massive crowd had her voice trembling, words escaping her—she even stumbled over her lines.
A far cry from the girl who had stood before Class A, pleading and pushing her case so forcefully.
It was as if she'd gone back to being the ordinary, unremarkable girl she'd been before the boycott.
"Um... excuse me."
"Yes! Go right ahead!"
"May I... say a few words of my own?"
"Oh! Of course! By all means!"
She drew in a long breath. Then she turned her head, stole a glance at Simon standing behind her, and faced forward again.
"There was a moment when I wished I could turn back time."
Her clear voice carried across the arena.
"It was a foolish act born of my paranoia, my sense of crisis, and my despair. I led a class boycott."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Even I found my own reasons sordid, so I plastered them over with pretty-sounding pretexts about student rights and the like. Through my actions, I inflicted wounds on several people that can never be washed away. I intend to seek out each and every one of them and ask for their forgiveness."
She exhaled once, deeply, and went on.
"The truth is, it all sprang from a misunderstanding of mine. Fortunately, my professor came to speak with me first, and I came to see my own foolishness. And thanks to her teachings, I'm standing in this glorious place today."
Claudia smiled brightly.
"But at that time, my professor said something I found hard to believe."
"Someone asked me to. Said I should have a talk with you girls."
"The more I think about it, the funnier it gets. I told him I'd grant any favor he wanted—and he spent it making an opportunity like this for a total stranger."
Kindness? Pity? Meddling? Or just a remark tossed out without a second thought?
No one could know why he'd made that request of Byeolya.
But one thing was certain.
"I don't know who he is,"
she said, wiping the tears clinging to the corners of her eyes with her fingertips,
"but if that person is listening, I want to tell him one thing."
She broke into a radiant smile.
"Thank you. That one word of yours changed my life."
The epicenter of the third BMAT's storm was, by anyone's account, Byeolya.
An unprecedented crisis had erupted in the form of a class boycott, and among the elders and parents alike, criticism of Byeolya's poison-ingestion lectures had been far from rare.
Then, out of nowhere, the Toxicology aspirants had withdrawn their boycott, arrived at the exam armed with a brand-new technique called the Original Jet-Black Poison System, and delivered dazzling results.
Claudia's sixth-place finish spoke for itself.
It was simply a favorable theme for Toxicology students. If the story had ended there, things would never have blown up to this scale. The real problem lay elsewhere.
The performance gap had widened dramatically between ordinary students who had taken Byeolya's Toxicology course and ordinary students who had taken another professor's.
Once the exam ended, students from the back-tier classes scrambled over one another to apply to audit Byeolya's lectures, insisting they wanted to study her Toxicology too.
Byeolya's stock soared accordingly—and even the thinking at Kizen headquarters began to shift.
"They dismissed her as some uncultured outsider, and she went and dropped a bombshell like this on them."
"They say Professor Hong-Peng faced the same backlash over her outdoor classes when she first arrived! And now she's ranked in the top tier of course satisfaction five years running and become one of Kizen's flagship professors."
"Good. Any more steppe-born necromancers out there? Get in contact."
"You're late to that. Word is Aland, Sierra, and Moiran have already started moving."
"Hahaha! And that's exactly why those schools are stuck in second place forever. Always a step behind."
A few points of controversy lingered, but Byeolya's adaptation to Kizen seemed to have squeaked through as a success.
"Cheers!"
With a clink of glasses, raucous laughter erupted all around.
In front of Hong-Peng's cabin, Hong-Peng had gathered the Toxicology TAs who'd sweated through it all, along with Byeolya, and thrown them a party herself.
"Eat up, ever'body! Drink plenty, too!"
"Thank you, Professor Hong-Peng!"
Byeolya, flushed red from the drink, waved her hands wildly.
"Hey! Hey, you! Come over here an' drink with us!"
"Just as soon as I finish this pot!"
Hong-Peng bustled back and forth between the cabin and the fire. One of the male TAs, pleasantly drunk, guffawed.
"Waaaah! Life really is unpredictable! I thought it was all over for us—and then it turns around like this!"
"I was sure we'd be kicked out for good."
"Heard the audit applications are flooding in. I'd pay good money to see Professor Duncan's face—the one teaching Toxicology to the back-tier classes."
"Thatsh what I kept thayin'!"
Byeolya thrust her glass high into the air and bellowed.
"I told you to put your trutht in me, didn't I!"
"You did, you did!"
"Another round—cheerth~!"
Wahahaha!
For the first time in ages, everyone set their worries down and simply enjoyed themselves.
The head TA, who couldn't hold her liquor, went around with a smile looking after the professor and the juniors—until her gaze landed on the girl seated beside Byeolya.
"Claudia, how long are you going to kneel like that? You're making everyone uncomfortable."
Claudia, kneeling at Byeolya's side, fidgeted with her glass, embarrassed.
"Ah... the more I think about it, the more I feel I don't have the right to be at a gathering like this..."
"Enough, enough! That'th all water under the bridge!"
Byeolya ruffled her hair.
"Tho you miththed up with the boycott—tho what! You landed thixth in the BMAT and thaved thith unnith's face! Ithn't that enough, huh? Huh?"
"That's right! Absolutely!"
"You lot!"
Byeolya bellowed at the TAs.
"I'm thinking of taking Claudia on ath my direct dithciple starting today! What thay you!"
"Yes!"
"Absolutely in favor!"
Cheers erupted from every corner of the gathering.
Claudia's eyes welled up with emotion.
"I-I only ever caused you all trouble, so why..."
"Crying again! She'th crying again! Hahaha!"
"Spit it out already! Jutht thay it!"
Byeolya shoved her face right up close and said,
"Are you going to turn me down like he did? Huh?"
"N-no, Professor! Becoming your direct disciple—I want it more than anything! It's an honor!"
"That'th the thpirit!"
"Then, to welcome our newest member—"
"Cheers!"
The night's mood grew warmer and warmer, and a few of the TAs drank themselves into a stupor and passed out where they sat.
Byeolya rose with a chuckle. The head TA asked,
"Where are you off to, Professor?"
"Latht room on the left!"
With that, she ambled off, wandering around to the back of Hong-Peng's cabin, where she spotted Hong-Peng tending a giant cauldron of stew.
"Hey."
Hong-Peng glanced back.
"Ah. Unnie."
"I'm jutht thayin', go eat. Food'th for eating."
The two women stood facing each other at a careful distance.
A brief silence settled between them.
"Congratulations, Unnie."
"For what?"
"Landing a big win like this. Honestly, I didn't think you'd ever adjust to life at Kizen."
Byeolya snickered.
"Funny how you only drop that ridiculous clumsy accent of yours when it'th just the two of uth?"
"Spare me. Just remember this."
Hong-Peng's eyes sharpened.
"This place runs on a survival of the fittest crueler than the steppes we grew up on. Show the slightest opening and they'll tear you apart in an instant. How long do you think anyone's going to go easy on us just because we came from a different culture?"
"Good grief. Not five minuthes together and you're already nagging."
Byeolya giggled, and Hong-Peng let out a dry little laugh of her own.
"Hey."
"?"
"Heard it from Thimon. Thayth you looked after me."
A faint smile touched Hong-Peng's lips, but it vanished almost as quickly as it came.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
She answered while stirring the ladle in the pot. Byeolya pressed on.
"Do you want Thimon too?"
"Any professor worth her salt would want to take him. Don't tell me you don't, Unnie?"
Byeolya bared her triangular teeth in a grin.
"He'th mine. Go find another one."
"Unbelievable."
And the twin sisters burst out laughing together.