The Offer He Couldn't Refuse
The long-awaited 'Skeleton Mage' creation class from Aaron had finally arrived.
From the very first crafting lesson, Aaron and the teaching assistants had their hands full.
"Get your mana sheets out! Your mana sheets first! Everything else goes back in the bag!"
"Lightning attribute is something we'll cover personally, later! For class, everyone uses the frost attribute—no exceptions!"
It was their first attempt at such a high-level undead creation, and the students stumbled badly. Hands shot up for help from the moment the lesson began. The TAs barely managed to wrangle everyone into moving on to stage two, only for another forest of hands to rise. And then there were the students causing accidents left and right, forcing the assistants to sprint around the room until their mouths went dry.
"Build the circuit first. What are you doing touching the master recognition rune already? Start over."
Aaron paused his own explanation to go check on the students himself.
"First year's almost over and you're still fumbling the base? Pathetic. Rebuild it from scratch."
"S-sorry, Professor!"
It would probably take a day or two before anyone got properly centered. It was an unavoidable learning curve—a sight Aaron had watched play out every year, and one he knew well.
And yet.
One student stood out from all the rest.
Among students who couldn't even tell what Bone #1 was, who kept confusing series circuits with parallel ones—
—there sat a boy who had finished three 'Skeleton Mages' entirely on his own, planted them upright in a row, and was now staring at the blackboard with a perfectly blank face.
...Unbelievable.
The energies rippling from the three Skeleton Mages' staffs were flame, frost, and wind.
He had succeeded in producing all three attributes.
The sight of the boy, having planted them there and doing nothing further, just watching the board, looked almost like a silent demonstration.
"A genius, as expected."
"Yeah, he's on another level from us~"
"He *is* Special Admission No. 1, after all."
Whispers drifted in from the surrounding students.
"He's totally lying about not having done any advance study, right?"
"Obviously!"
"So was botching the skeleton assembly on the first day all an act too?"
"Ridiculous."
"I admit he's a genius, but honestly, he's kind of showing off."
No.
Aaron quietly denied every one of the voices ringing in his ears.
Simon truly had done no advance study.
Forget advance study—he had enrolled with a knowledge score of 'zero' as a necromancer. He had been at the very bottom of the entire student body, starting from more disadvantaged footing than anyone. On top of that, he'd carried nothing but an honorary Special Admission No. 1 title.
One wrong step, and his school life would have unraveled into a tangled mess.
But not anymore.
No one can deny that kid's title now.
Even now, it was the same. The Skeleton Mages standing at Simon's side were, whatever anyone said, the crystallization of effort steeped in his own sweat and blood.
The sunken dark circle under Simon's eyes and his frazzled hair told the story of everything he'd endured. And yet those two eyes still shone with sharp, lively light.
"Simon Polentia."
Aaron approached him.
"How's the body holding up?"
It was a question born of everything he could see the boy had been through. Simon smiled.
"I'm fine, Professor."
"Why would you do something so reckless?"
In Aaron's eyes, Simon's bright, sparkling gaze was reflected.
"Because I wanted to."
Whoooosh—
A fresh breeze blew in through the window.
Aaron's pupils dilated, and the scenery around him shifted.
It was the same lecture hall, but the world turned grey, and the students wore outdated uniforms.
And there, a boy brighter and more radiant than anyone else threw his hand up high.
"Forget boring things like Island Ratmen!"
Beside him, a freshly assembled skeleton struck an arrogant pose in imitation of its master.
"When can I build a Lich, Professor?"
The Summoning professor gave a hollow laugh.
"Don't overstep, Aaron Deia."
Whooooosh.
The wind blew once more. The scenery changed again.
The boy was a little taller now.
"You've chosen a hard road,"
the professor said.
He had more wrinkles now, didn't he.
"You're working nights to earn money for materials?"
"Yes."
"Why would you go that far?"
Aaron answered with a smile.
"What other reason could there be? It's what I love to do!"
Whooooosh.
A third wind blew—
—and Simon stood before him.
This boy's eyes glowed with the same sharp brilliance as his younger self once had, brimming with a confidence that made it seem like there was nothing in this world he couldn't achieve.
Aaron sighed and spoke.
"...What is it you want, Simon Polentia?"
Why he had visibly built the Skeleton Mages they'd be practicing on for weeks entirely on his own, and then simply sat waiting like this.
"Teach me the modification of a Lich's 'Life Vessel.'"
It was so he could arm himself with everything needed to move ahead of everyone else.
Aaron's first rule of teaching:
Every student who entered his class would, without fail, learn something.
And so, for students who already knew everything the class had to offer, he gave personalized lessons tailored to them.
Simon had used this to learn 'Bone Armour' from Aaron, and then 'Blood Golem' as well.
"I read the book you gave me, Professor, but I couldn't grasp a single thing about the Life Vessel."
Saying that, Simon bowed his head.
"I need your instruction."
A dry lump caught in Aaron's throat. The hand in his pocket trembled faintly, sweat gathering in his palm.
"Are you serious about making a Lich as your practical assessment project this term?"
"Yes."
The boy's eyes were earnest.
"I regret how easily I blurted out that I'd build a Lich in front of you, Professor. But that resolve was genuine—and needless to say, it hasn't changed one bit."
Youth—
"Whether I can actually do it or not doesn't matter anymore. I *will* make it happen."
—is far too precious a thing for a young man to carry.
No questions asked.
No measuring, weighing, calculating.
Because I like it.
Because I want to.
The courage to challenge boldly and crash against walls without end.
Something he himself had once possessed, and no longer did.
Aaron envied that youth in Simon.
"Just now. You said 'because you wanted to.'"
Realistically, he wanted to talk the boy out of it.
Because that genius, every single time, made him remember his own younger self.
"In this world, there are far more people who do what they don't want to."
He had suffered frustrations beyond counting.
And it wasn't only he himself who suffered—those around him suffered too.
His family had fallen on hard times. Precious people had turned their backs. He'd been rebuffed by academia, and the direct disciples he had painstakingly chosen all dropped out together.
Simon Polentia. The more of an adult you become, the more responsibility you carry. The more you chase what you want, the more you can wither everything around you. A thousand practical reasons will grab you by the ankles.
The genius among geniuses, the boy once overflowing with drive and vigor for everything—
—had become this professor, now, in a shirt with a drooping collar, hounded by chronic fatigue, shuffling around in slippers, and forcing students to consider abandoning the Summoning major from the very first lesson.
"A heaven-sent genius like Simon cannot be allowed to turn out like you, Senior Aaron."
The junior who had watched his downfall from closer than anyone had pressed him to give up his right to teach Simon.
And yet, strangely, he couldn't let go.
Was there still some greed left in him? Some desire he couldn't set down?
Yet neither could he choose Simon, with a feeling like committing a sin. And so, in that ambiguous state, the time had simply slipped past.
"...Simon Polentia. Second-year major selection is coming soon."
But—
He couldn't go on like this any longer.
For this boy's sake, and for his own sake as well.
"If you choose Summoning again in your second year—"
Aaron opened his trembling mouth.
"I want to take you on as my direct disciple."
Sniff, sniff.
Summoning class was over, and the students bustled noisily toward their next lecture hall. It was one of the few happy stretches of the day for Kizen students—yet someone's sobbing echoed above the chatter.
"Stop crying already."
Meilin forced a smile as she looked at the source of the tears.
"Cami."
"Hic— but... Simon and Professor Aaron! It's just so moving!"
Camibarez wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes.
"When I saw how Professor Aaron did nothing but list Summoning's flaws back in first year, I thought he must have been suffering so much inside! I'm just so glad he opened his heart first like this...!"
"Wait, why are *you* the one crying—"
Dick's quip was immediately cut short by a strike from Meilin's palm to the top of his head. Simon simply laughed, quietly.
"Brother! You look like a weight's been lifted!"
Dick nudged him playfully in the ribs.
"You turned down every other professor's offers and just kept waiting, huh!"
"Yeah. Asking a professor to take you on as a direct disciple before they offer would've been bad manners."
Simon was fighting a desperate battle to keep the corners of his mouth from climbing.
Truth be told, if there had been no one around, he would have swung his fists at empty air, shrieking with joy and bouncing off the walls. But he was holding it in, somehow, for the sake of dignity.
"Still, Professor Aaron sure is stubbo—"
Meilin pressed a slender finger to her lips.
"Simon wants it too, so he could just grant it right now. But no, he *insists* on waiting until Simon advances to second year."
"I get it, though."
Simon answered with a smile.
"Professor Aaron is wary of hasty direct-disciple choices."
At Kizen these days, the dominant strategy was aggressively pitching direct discipleships to snap up key talent before anyone else could.
Aaron, by contrast, had always maintained that students should fully discover their own talents and aptitudes first, and only then carefully choose their major and their direct professor.
"Watching Professor Aaron and Simon really moved me! I want to become someone's direct disciple soon too!"
Camibarez declared.
"...I really hope Professor Walter offers."
'!'
At those words, Simon's expression flinched.
"Don't be so anxious, Cami."
Meilin smiled gently and stroked her hair.
"Professor Walter hasn't taken a single direct disciple yet. If he does look for one, Cami, you'd be his first pick."
"Aww, obviously!"
Dick nodded along vigorously in agreement.
Only Simon stood there, his expression grave, wavering back and forth in quiet turmoil.
...Cami becoming Walter's direct disciple?
"Hey~ hey~ Professor Bahil, if you're listening!"
Dick raised his arm and hollered.
"If you don't come grab this genius disciple soon, he might just run off to Professor Byeolya!"
"Why don't *you* just run off to whatever alien planet you came from."
Meilin chided him, and Simon and Camibarez burst out laughing.
"Oh, right, guys! Fresh, piping-hot intel just came in!"
Dick snapped his fingers and turned to the three of them.
"Intel?"
"Yup! This weekend we rest, and then next week it's straight into the third game of the After-School BMAT!"
"Hard to believe it's already the third game."
Once all the After-School BMAT games were finished, the practical assessment season would be nearly at its end.
And then only a single trial would remain for Kizen's first-years. The final trial—and the worst of them all: the promotion exam, with the 5th BMAT folded into it, was closing in fast.
"Kizen's promotion exam has a fearsome reputation."
Meilin raised her index finger with an unusually serious expression.
"First-years and second-years get wildly different power and treatment within Kizen, so word is the exam is brutal even by those standards. And with the final BMAT stacked on top of it? I can't even imagine how hard it'll be."
"Right. HQ ran a simulation, remember? They said 500 out of 797 would fail. ...I'm so scared."
"Eh, worry about the promotion exam when we get there!"
Dick slung an arm around Simon's neck and grinned.
"You promised me a siege battle in this next After-School BMAT, remember?"
Simon nodded.
"Of course. I'm looking forward to it."
Though what *he* was looking forward to was a different matter entirely.
Simon intended to field-test his Skeleton Mages in actual combat during the siege battle.
What new tricks could a Mage pull off?
Just imagining it sent a thrill of excitement coursing through him.