The Mentor's Mask
The darkness of the forest was unusually thick.
Deep in the woods, where a gloomy owl's cry echoed through the trees, the carriage carrying Simon's group finally came to a halt.
The horses pulling it had reached the absolute limit of their endurance.
Though their wounds had healed, they were simply too exhausted; they lay collapsed on the ground and refused to move another step. They had no choice but to either camp here or abandon the carriage and press on on foot.
Camping meant scouting the surroundings for danger all over again, so Simon had volunteered to reconnoiter the area alone.
No droppings, no tracks. Doesn't look like any monsters are nearby.
Snrk.
Then he caught a flicker of movement in the undergrowth. With his hearing heightened to a razor's edge by the night, Simon instantly fired a round from the Bone Armor–Handgun wrapped around his arm.
Thwack!
Something burst apart as the bullet struck home.
Simon sprinted over to investigate.
Rooting through the brush, he found something like a white mechanical device. A bone was lodged squarely in its torso, and when he pulled it free and examined the interior, he discovered a divine magic circle inscribed within.
[So it's a Creature.]
Pier, with his wealth of experience, recognized the thing at once.
[It's a kind of summoned beast those Priest vermin use for reconnaissance.]
So Efnel really is tracking us.
[Kekeke, judging by the fact that they only just seeded Creatures ahead of us, there's still some distance between us. But they'll catch up before long.]
Simon nodded.
Then camping's off. We move out right away.
* * *
Meanwhile, back at the carriage, two factions had squared off in bitter disagreement.
"At the very least we should rest properly tonight and leave tomorrow morning!"
Meilin argued for camping.
"Given how urgent the operation is, we need to move right now. Wake Sasha up!"
Seywir insisted they push forward, even on foot.
"Are you insane?! Without the carriage, what are we supposed to do once we're out of the forest? And Sasha's injured!"
At Meilin's outburst, Camibarez nodded along shyly in agreement.
Sasha stayed glued to her side.
"If they cannot walk, then you can carry them. Problem solved."
"No— that's not the point!"
Meilin began to square up against Seywir in earnest.
"Maybe you're above it, agent, but we were in an actual battle just a few hours ago. Everyone's exhausted! And if you'd been carrying a communication crystal orb connected to Vengeance Headquarters from the start, we wouldn't even be having this argument! We could've just called for backup!"
"I lost it from my pocket in the heat of urgent combat. The heavens did not smile upon me — but then, that too is merely one of the countless variables of the field."
"You didn't lift a finger to help us during the entire fight, and now you talk about urgency—!"
Seywir shook his head sharply from side to side, then swept his bangs back with the back of his hand.
"If you keep sabotaging teamwork like this, you should prepare yourself for the lowest possible score, Agent Meilin."
Meilin's fists trembled.
She couldn't exactly just sock him one.
He was suspicious as hell, but there was no evidence to expose his lie.
Rustle, rustle.
Just then, the sound of footsteps pushing through the grass announced Simon's return from his scouting run.
"What's going on?"
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, he asked.
"Simon! Say something, quick!"
Meilin hurried over and whispered quietly in his ear.
"He insists he's absolutely right about everything! He keeps threatening us with that score nonsense to steamroll us!"
Simon nodded along agreeably, then took a step toward Seywir.
"To report my scouting results first — camping is out of the question."
The moment Simon backed Seywir's play, Meilin pressed her lips into a flat line, while Seywir preened and tapped his bangs smugly.
"See? Agent Simon knows how to cooperate! As for your teamwork score—"
"We found this."
Simon opened his palm to reveal what looked like a fragment of a doll.
Everyone's expressions froze.
"Th- that's a Creature, right? So they really are chasing us."
Dick said, wearing a look that said his head was starting to ache. Simon nodded and dropped the Creature's remains to the ground.
"Before we fight the Priests, let's deal with the problem inside our own camp first."
"The problem inside the camp?"
"Yep."
Simon turned.
"Agent Seywir."
"Yes?"
"Did you truly lose your communication crystal orb? Or did you never bring one in the first place?"
At Simon's words, every head swiveled toward Seywir, who scrunched his face in displeasure.
"What on earth is that supposed to mean, Agent Simon?"
"I am asking whether you are actually the mentor necromancer assigned to us."
There had been plenty of oddities.
When they had first arrived in the Neutral Zone and gone to seek Seywir out, Simon had glimpsed the letter he carried — blurry, but the writing had been legible.
The name written there was not Seywir's, but someone else's entirely.
And there was more. When the Priests had attacked Kelso Village, where Sasha lived, the ground had split open and everything had been blown to pieces — yet looking back afterward, the terrain had been perfectly restored, as if nothing had happened.
The villagers nearby had been unnaturally calm. Fine, it was a lawless region — but a battle had broken out inside the village, and they'd gone on laying out their mats and selling their wares without so much as a flinch. Wasn't that strange, to say the least?
On top of that, Seywir had taken no part in this latest battle, and now he'd conveniently 'forgotten' the very crystal orb that could prove his identity.
The whole thing reeked.
Simon hadn't pressed the matter until now, but with Efnel's assault imminent, he judged it was time to eliminate every uncertainty.
When Simon finished, Seywir gave a hollow laugh and shrugged his shoulders.
"It's all conjecture. Nothing but your delusions, Agent Simon."
"......"
"We're doing quite well as a team. We even secured the stolen target. I fail to see why anyone would shatter trust between agents and blow up our teamwork at a moment like this. Keep this up, and I'll have no choice but to give you the lowest—"
"Go right ahead."
At Simon's stunning declaration, every eye went wide.
"In exchange, I will testify before Kizen's disciplinary committee as follows: Agent Seywir was never qualified to be my mentor in the first place."
"I beg your pardon?"
Simon raised his head.
"I am formally requesting a duel. Agent Seywir."
"Simon!!"
"Wh- whoa! What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
Camibarez and Dick rushed to hold him back, but Simon just smiled and signaled that it was fine.
"Kizen is a pure meritocracy. If someone weaker than me is playing mentor, I believe the school itself will recognize my position."
"Those are words I cannot simply let pass."
Kuuuuuuuuuum!
A massive tide of Jet-Black surged up around Seywir's body.
"I am a Federation-certified 3rd-Rank necromancer, in the employ of Vengeance! I will overlook this insult no longer!"
Simon slowly drew up his own Jet-Black in answer, and Meilin shrieked and grabbed his arm.
"Efnel is coming! This is no time to fight among ourselves!"
"It'll be over in a second. Don't worry."
Simon said it soothingly, then walked toward Seywir.
"Last chance, Agent Simon!"
The man warned him solemnly.
"I was granted lawful command authority over you by Kizen itself. Apologize at once and submit to my orders!"
"If you want that, then show me some skill."
Simon took another step toward him.
"You dare—!!"
Seywir spread a magic circle across his palm and unleashed his dark magic. A hazy smoke billowed out from behind him, draping over his shoulders like a mantle and spilling across the ground like a carpet — and from within it, giants of blurred, indistinct form rose up.
Dick let out an involuntary gasp.
"That's Descent Summoning from Spirit Magic! Six of them!"
Where Prince Andre — the Kizen second-year they'd fought once before — had wielded a single Descent Vessel, Seywir had just produced a full six.
"This is your truly final chance."
Seywir swept his bangs back with the back of his hand, lifted his chin, and looked down at Simon.
"Stand down."
Simon ignored him and simply kept walking. Seywir, who had assumed Simon would know better than to push this far, felt his pupils tremble.
"Ahem! I- it is not too late yet! Even now, if you withdraw, I shall graciously forgi—!"
"By all means, continue. We are having a duel, aren't we?"
"This is your very, very last chance!"
At the surreal turn the standoff had taken, the four onlookers blinked in bewilderment.
"Do not test my patience! Stop right there, Simon Polentia!"
Simon ignored him. Seywir finally slashed his arm down in fury.
"Enough!!"
The six Descent Vessels swung their weapons.
Whoooom!
And stopped — a hair's breadth from Simon's neck. The group members cried out in alarm.
Then Simon upped the ante. With breathtaking audacity, he pressed his own neck directly against the Vessel's blade. But far from bleeding or being cut, his body simply passed straight through it.
"Illusion magic."
Simon reached out and touched the Descent Vessel's body — and his hand passed through it too. Every watching eye went round as saucers.
"You've been showing us illusions from the very beginning, haven't you? Starting with that blank letter — all the way through your battle with the Priests at the village."
"Ghk—!"
Crimson-faced, Seywir staggered backward, then finally spun on his heel and bolted into the forest.
Zip!
The instant he did, an enchanted rope shot out and snared his legs.
"Ugh!"
He hit the ground with a grunt.
"Going somewhere~?"
It was Dick.
Face-down, Seywir was dragged across the grass all the way back to where the students and Sasha stood.
"W- wait, Agent Dick! Surely you of all people will believe—"
"Ugh, the more I think about this, the fouler I feel."
Dick said coldly, grinding his boot roughly into Seywir's back.
"You were toying with us from the start?"
"Khok! N- no, that's not—"
"Move aside, commoner."
Meilin came striding over, fist clenched tight.
"I've got some business with him too."
"H- huk!"
"Guys, hold on a second."
Simon stepped in to stop them. Meilin whipped around and shouted.
"Hey, don't you dare stop me!"
"Let's hear the whole story first — what happened and why. The beating can come after."
"So the beating IS happening!"
And so Seywir — who until moments ago had been insisting he was their mentor — found himself subdued by his own students, trussed up tight in rope, and made to pour out his heart.
Seywir was a rookie, barely a year into his career at Vengeance. His 3rd Rank was a lie; in truth, he was a first-year necromancer fresh into 1st Rank. Naturally, his Kizen graduation was fabricated too — he was a dropout of Aland Academy, one of the public necromancer schools.
As a professional necromancer, he fell short on every front — except for exactly one field. In Illusion Magic alone he had genuine talent, and it was that skill that had earned him a place at Vengeance running reconnaissance and espionage work.
But for all his usual swagger, he was a walking catalogue of blunders, and word had spread through Vengeance that he was all show and no substance.
The company boss had shaken him down until he was dust, and told him point-blank not to even dream of a promotion to 2nd Rank.
Then Seywir learned that his name was on the list for the second-round layoffs. If he was cut from Vengeance with that stain on his record, he realized, no corner of the necromancer world would ever take him again.
He had to survive. And to survive, he needed a triumph — any triumph, at any cost.
As it happened, two major assignments had recently landed on Vengeance's desk.
The dispatch of Kizen students — and the retrieval of a prominent Saintess Candidate.
That was when the idea sparked. Rather than sit idle and wait for the axe, he would personally see both assignments through to success.
Seywir had lain in ambush near the village, waiting for the Kizen students to arrive, and the moment they crossed into the Neutral Zone he had woven his illusion magic over them, luring them to himself.
Then, masquerading as their mentor, he had molded them into obedience and resolved to accomplish one of the operation's core objectives — securing the Saintess Candidate — using the students' own strength. The plan was simple: leave all the actual work entirely to the capable Kizen students while he waited at a safe distance, ostensibly 'supervising their education.' And sure enough, they had proven every bit as excellent as Kizen's reputation promised, and successfully secured Sasha.
All he'd had to do was return to Vengeance Headquarters in triumph and declare the mission a success — then the boss and his colleagues would finally look at him differently.
Or so he had believed.
"...You're actually insane. Completely insane."
Instead, his identity had been exposed by the very students he'd schemed against, and here he was, wrapped up like a festival prize.
Meilin crouched down in front of him and said icily.
"You think Kizen is a joke? The mission is a joke? All this suffering — for your own greed?"
"I- I'm sorry."
The man who had carried himself with such towering arrogance minutes ago had abandoned every shred of his pride and lay prostrate on the ground.
Still unsatisfied, Meilin glared daggers at him. Dick chimed in as well.
"How about we just call it 'lost in combat,' tie him to a tree, and leave? Let the monsters have him."
Tears welled up in Seywir's eyes in an instant.
"P- please spare me! I've committed a capital crime, I know! Just spare my life, my life—!"
Then Simon stepped forward.
"I'd love to keep interrogating you, but we're out of time. We need to reach safety before Efnel's pursuit gets into full swing."
Having said that, Simon looked down at Seywir.
"Agent Seywir. There's something you're going to do for us."
"Wh- what is it?! Anything! Anything at all, as long as I live!"
Simon smiled a smile like a demon's.
"You're going to be our bait."