A World Painted White
Emerging from the siege warfare theme, Simon found that exactly three hours had passed in the real world—even though it felt like he'd spent an entire day rolling around a battlefield.
There was only an hour left until the BMAT ended. Simon's group hurried off in search of their next card. Fortunately, Simon owned a pair of glasses specially made for hunting down cards, and the three of them had little trouble finding the red one before heading inside.
Today's final game was the Curse Studies Written Exam theme. In a room where the walls gradually closed in and the ceiling lowered as time passed, they had to solve problems listing curse formulas in order to escape to the next chamber.
Needless to say, Meilin absolutely dominated this theme. Without even finishing reading the problems, she'd get a feel for them and rattle off answers one after another—a display of the sheer talent behind her ranking of second in the entire school on written exams.
[Problem: Given the following symptoms, identify the five curses used on this patient.]
"The patient said her legs felt numb, so isn't it the Cramp Curse?" Simon said.
"Oh come on, you think the problem's that simple?" Dick shot back. "There's obviously a trap in this one. The answer is a fear-type curse! Fear makes her legs tremble, and she interprets the trembling as numbness! I'm right, aren't I, Meilin?"
"Both of you, shut it."
Meilin, working through the problem at the door, replied icily. She needed to focus completely on the questions, but these know-nothing boys kept peppering her with backseat coaching. Finally losing patience, she let out a frustrated shriek. "Get lost! You two are nothing but a distraction!"
And so Simon and Dick were demoted from problem-solving duty and assigned to hold back the closing walls and ceiling to buy her time. It was decent teamwork either way, and freed from the pressure of the clock, Meilin could work through the problems at her own pace. Simon even offered a bit of advice on the summoning-related curses.
[All problems solved!]
[You have won the game!]
The three of them claimed the red card and safely made their way outside.
"We did iiiit!"
By the time they emerged, the BMAT had already concluded. Around them, students were chattering and laughing as they headed back to the dorms.
Dick stretched until his spine crackled. "Aaagh! That was a real mountain to climb. I feel SO accomplished!"
"You earned it. Good work," Simon said with a quick smile, then turned to Meilin. "You too, Meilin. That was a lot of effort."
"Hmph." She flicked the hair behind her ear with a prickly expression. "You two both owe me now, got it? So hurry up and buy me something delicious for dinner."
Dick cut in immediately. "Whoa there! If we're settling accounts, don't I get credit for all the intel that carried you through the siege theme? You were getting absolutely fleeced by the Hartz family, remember?"
"Hey! When did I ever—!"
As the two of them started bickering yet again, Simon checked over the cards in his hand. Red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, violet—and even gold.
One more card at the final after-school BMAT, and the first-place combo would be locked in.
'The fact that the last card is green does worry me, though.'
A green card meant a high chance of a Spirit Magic theme. It was Simon's weakest field, so he'd need a plan.
"What are you doing? Simon! Hurry up!"
"Yeah, coming!"
Simon quickly followed behind Meilin and Dick. At least for today, he intended to savor the victory to the fullest.
Outside Bahil's research office, Chehekl—Chief TA of Curse Studies—smoothed her rumpled clothing lightly and knocked on the door. "Professor Bahil, it's Chehekl."
No answer invited her in, but she opened the door with the ease of long familiarity.
Scritch. Tap. Scritch.
The same scene she witnessed every time. The room's lights were off, and Bahil sat in a chair before the blackboard, arm moving as he copied out formula after formula without ever once glancing at the board. As though he were extracting knowledge from his own head and duplicating it into the outside world, his arm moved with mechanical rhythm. His free hand—the one not holding the chalk—rested against his cheek, his somewhat vacant gaze fixed on empty air.
The strange thing, though, was that while the chalk was undeniably moving, nothing at all was being written on the blackboard. Chehekl chalked it up to what an eccentric he was and made her report.
"Professor. The first-years' after-school BMAT just ended."
Bahil gave a small nod. "I suppose so, judging by how noisy it's gotten outside."
"You've been busy yourself, Professor, preparing the paper for the academic conference."
"This much is nothing."
Scritch. Having finished the final formula and marked it with a period, Bahil at last rose from his chair and smoothed the wrinkles from his collar. "It's a simple matter. The necromancers at these conferences are all fools, you see—show them anything unfamiliar to common sense and they'll cheer."
"...It may be common sense to you, Professor, but through ordinary people's eyes, it most certainly is not."
"It hardly matters. Care for a cup of coffee?" Bahil said as he walked off. "You've always been the one to make my coffee, Chehekl—so today, at the very least, I'd like to brew it for you."
"How gracious of you."
Chehekl let out a light sigh and stole a careful glance at Bahil's face. "You're taking this more calmly than I expected."
"Taking what calmly?"
Bahil clattered about as he prepared the coffee. "About Student Simon."
"Yes."
"The rumor spread like wildfire among the TAs. That Professor Aaron offered Simon a direct discipleship."
"I see."
"You really aren't bothered at all?"
Bahil filled a glass of water with a blank expression. "Senior Aaron has every right to offer Simon a direct discipleship, Chehekl."
Chehekl's face twitched.
Something is seriously off with this man today.
He was absolutely not the type to let things slide this gracefully. This was a man who should be hurling objects, shattering windows, and raining curses in every direction—doing all that still wouldn't be enough for him.
She decided to probe a little further.
"You've barely gone near Simon lately."
"Mm."
"Y-you don't feel even the slightest sense of crisis?"
"Mm."
Bahil had broken. Was it the shock? Or had he simply lost his mind?
Watching a man who wouldn't bleed if you stabbed him with a needle sit there like this, Chehekl felt something unfamiliar toward him for the first time: pity.
"...This isn't like you, Professor," she said, putting a slight edge into her eyes.
"What do you mean?" Bahil answered in the same listless drawl.
"Being this dejected! Being this limp! Pretending so hard that none of it matters!"
But no matter what she said, Bahil didn't react. Stung, she drew in a deep breath and snapped. "For someone who's Professor Bahil, you give up astonishingly easily! Was your feeling for Simon never genuine in the first place?!"
In that instant—
CRACKLE-BOOM!
Lightning struck.
The world flashed and turned blindingly white around her. The research office turned white with it. In that instant, where only stark light and shadow remained, Chehekl could see it clearly.
The words inscribed across the entire office.
Chehekl's own face went white as a blank sheet of paper.
The entire office. Everywhere she turned her head, wherever she looked—
Simon's name. Solutions Simon had written. Problems Simon had solved. Food Simon had eaten. Techniques Simon had learned. The future Simon ought to pursue. Every inch of the place was papered over with nothing but Simon.
"I was never serious about Simon, you say?"
In the world of light and shadow, a madman with disheveled hair spat out a ferocious blue glare. "As if that were possible."
CRACKLE-BOOM!
Lightning struck again, and the world snapped back to its original form. The shock hit Chehekl so hard that her legs gave out beneath her and she crumpled to the floor.
"Ah, oops." Bahil gave an embarrassed smile. "I got a little carried away. Sorry for startling y—"
"You absolute lunatic, you insane bastard!!"
Chehekl shrieked at the top of her lungs. Her heart was still hammering like it had broken, and tears had even welled up in her eyes. "I'm disgusted with myself for worrying about a psychopath like you, even for a second!!"
"Haha." Bahil approached her with a soft laugh. "There's no need to worry about Simon. It's not as though Senior Aaron has taken him on as a direct disciple this very moment, is it? And that is that man's limitation—and—"
His voice sank to a chill. "—that man's own wound."
Bahil extended his hand, but Chehekl coolly smacked it away with a sharp tap and rose to her feet. "So what, you're just going to sit back and take your time now?"
"I won't pretend I didn't feel the blood rush to my head the moment I first heard the news. I calmly contemplated my brain spinning into overdrive, spewing out thousands of ways to kill Senior Aaron."
Pathetic, Chehekl grumbled under her breath.
"But it's quite all right! Something on that level is nothing! My Simon will end up in my hands regardless! Now, have your coffee."
"Professor Bahil." Still fuming, Chehekl took the coffee he offered, turned it upside down on the spot, and poured it straight into the sink. "Shall we just look at the objective situation?"
Clack. She set down the empty cup and continued. "Student Simon has been taught Bone Armor and the Blood Golem directly by Professor Aaron, and now he's learning about the Lich. Meanwhile, Professor Bahil has simply finished transmitting the Four Great Curses. Do you really think you're in the running?"
"The Four Great Curses are not the end."
Bahil smiled faintly. "Once we've learned all four, there remains Compellonia. Simon is a diligent student. He's pouring his efforts into crafting the Lich and into summoning, yes—but at the very least, he'll keep the promise he made to me. He'll complete all four curses before his first year is over."
"...What in the world IS this Compellonia, that you're so confident?"
"Wait and see. The Simon who uses Compellonia will be a different person from the Simon who came before it. Everything will change."
Bahil spread both arms wide. "No matter what anyone says, he is in the same field as me. He has the talent. He has the madness. Which means—"
The corners of Bahil's mouth curled upward. "—he'll have no choice but to make the same choice I did."
The next day, Simon was studying the Life Vessel in Aaron's research office.
"I did it, Professor!" Simon declared as he pulled his hands away. Suspended in the air, two strips of Jet-Black hovered, crossing over one another.
"Good."
Aaron gave only a slight nod, his expression blank—
'...Just what kind of monster am I teaching here?'
—though inwardly he was floored. In just one week, Simon had fully grasped the fundamentals of the Life Vessel and managed to produce his first 'strip.'
But he suppressed his astonishment and spoke with practiced composure. "Don't get cocky. The 'strip' is the most basic stage of the Life Vessel. Think of it as taking your first step."
"Yes, Professor! Please teach me the next stage!"
Aaron shook his head and rose from his seat. "Rest for a while. Rest matters too."
"Huh? I'm fine thou—"
Tap.
Aaron lightly touched Simon's forehead, and the boy's body slumped bonelessly onto the sofa. "You've made three strips in a row—there's no way you're fine. Rest."
As though stricken by some curse, Simon couldn't move a muscle. And the moment he gave up resisting and let himself sink into the sofa's comfort, his eyes fluttered shut, and within five seconds he was snoring away, sprawled out completely.
"...He really does push himself."
While Simon slept, Aaron compiled the materials he'd be teaching him next. Only after two full hours did Simon's eyes open again.
"Ah!"
Simon stretched himself out with a long groan. "My body feels SO light! I feel like I could do anything!"
"Settle down."
As Simon sat up, Aaron handed him a freshly brewed cup of tea. "It restores the body's vitality."
"Thank you for the—gah!"
One sip in, Simon's face scrunched into a grimace and he stuck out his tongue. It was bitter beyond anything he could have imagined.
Aaron cracked a rare smile. "Bitter medicine is good for the body. Drink it all."
"...Y-you mean all of THIS?"
When Simon looked up at him with rebellious eyes, Aaron replied in a perfectly flat tone. "If you can't drink it, today's private lesson ends here."
At that, Simon downed the tea in one gulp, grimacing horribly and sticking out his numb, tingling tongue. Aaron handed him a glass of cold water.
'Still, though.'
Simon took the water and drank it, smiling. 'Getting closer to the Professor feels good. It's finally starting to feel like a proper professor-and-direct-disciple relationship.'
Ever since that last summoning class, the distance between him and Aaron had shrunk considerably—and that made Simon happy.
Aaron plopped down into the seat across from him. "Now then, before we move on to the next lesson, one question."
"Yes, sir!"
"Did you find the heart that will become your Lich's Life Vessel?"
Simon scratched the side of his head. "...Ah. That, um. Well, you see—"