The Glass City
"Right on time. Come in."
Click!
The door swung open, and the third participant revealed herself.
It was someone Simon knew very well. No—knew too well, someone he saw every single day.
A male student with grey hair and a scar over one eye.
"Kajan!!"
Simon was thrown into complete confusion.
Weren't they here for the academic conference—the presentation schedule for the Summoning thesis, no less? And his companions were supposed to be Serne and Kajan of all people?
"Apologies for being late."
Kajan showed no particular reaction. He gave Aaron a light bow, then cast a glance at Simon as well.
Beside him, Serne waved an elegant hand with a crescent-eyed smile, but he brushed her off completely. She pouted, lips jutting out in an offended expression, and he ignored her a second time.
"Since you all seem to know each other, no introductions needed. Sit."
Once the three students had lined up on the sofa, Aaron continued.
"We'll begin the thesis review now."
If Aaron read their papers here and judged them insufficient, they would be barred from the conference. Simon suddenly felt tension creeping over him.
Aaron examined Serne's thesis first.
Flip.
Flip.
The pages turned at a rapid pace, one by one.
It was a Kizen professor reviewing her work—no one else, and reason enough to be nervous—yet Serne simply sat there smiling, perfectly at ease.
Certainly, Simon had never once seen Serne fear anyone or find anyone intimidating. Not Kizen professors, not even when a Saintess stood right in front of her.
She simply looked down on them. As if all the world's creations lay beneath her feet.
Hahh.
At last, Aaron finished reading Serne's thesis and set it down on the desk.
"I have no idea what any of this is supposed to mean."
Simon's mouth fell open. Content that even the Summoning professor couldn't understand?
"But."
Aaron's voice dropped low.
"It would go over well with the lunatic eccentrics at the conference. Good work."
"It's the bare minimum, really!"
Serne tossed her tousled hair with her fingertips, preening.
Now the next turn. Aaron checked Kajan's thesis.
Simon looked at Kajan with a somewhat anxious expression.
'How on earth did this happen, Kajan!'
This man was the biggest mystery of the three. He was the classic all-in Magic Combat type, failing every subject outside of it. The man had admitted with his own mouth that he'd scored a 20 on the Summoning midterm.
And this person had written a Summoning thesis?
"......"
Aaron, reading Kajan's thesis, had stalled from the very first page. His expression hardened gravely as he remained frozen on one particular passage for a long while.
"......Kajan Edvalt."
Aaron raised his head with cold eyes.
"What exactly are you playing at?"
Kajan answered in a blunt voice.
"A mere repeater, sir."
The atmosphere turned strange. Taut tension crackled between the two men, while Simon, caught in the middle, fidgeted anxiously and watched their every move. Serne, already bored, was resting her chin on her hand, smoothing her fingers over each other.
Aaron looked at the first page of the thesis one more time. The content was hopeless—but scrawled in the corner of that first page, in a terrible mess of handwriting, were these words:
Just pass this one, okay?
— Nephthys —
Above it were childish doodles—flowers, trees, clouds—apparently drawn by Nephthys's own hand.
Aaron let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead, then before long set down the thesis, having read only its first page.
"Passed."
'THIS counts as passing?'
Simon's jaw dropped as he stared at Aaron. Without a word of explanation, the professor picked up the final thesis—Simon's.
'He's just going to chew me out at the conference. At best, I hope this kid heals my rotten eyes.'
With that, he unfolded the first page.
'......!'
For the first time, surprise crossed Aaron's face. When he came back to himself, he was already five pages deep in an instant.
He looked up, whipped his gaze toward Simon, then went back to reading—looked up, looked at Simon, read again. Over and over.
'Wh-why is he doing that?'
Simon was in a state of extreme tension as well. The two hands he'd politely folded in his lap had gone slick with sweat. It felt as though the weak points in his thesis were turning into needles, pricking at his chest again and again.
'......Haah, I want to fix a few things even now. If it were my first thesis, I'd have played it safe.'
Time slipped by without his noticing. At last, Aaron finished reading Simon's thesis.
He quietly set the paper down and closed his eyes, as if savoring the lingering resonance.
'This writing is sweet.'
The opening pages seized the reader's attention with a bold, unconventional approach, and the later pages meticulously laid out the substance to back that audacity up. It was content that stuffed a necromancer's hungry curiosity to the brim.
And on top of that, the pure perspective of a student whose brain hadn't yet hardened.
The way he pinpointed the blind spots that necromancers—stewed in their own expertise until they'd gone rotten—could no longer see, and transformed them with genuine creativity, was exquisite.
Aaron opened his eyes and stared at Simon.
"Simon Polentia."
"Y-yes, Professor!"
"Setting the conference aside."
He pointed a fingertip at Simon's thesis.
"You have my permission to submit this thesis for the Summoning final performance assessment."
"!"
At those words, Simon's mind spun into high gear.
The Summoning final performance assessment was none other than a 40%-weighted assignment: Designing a Magic-Type Undead and Defending It in Writing.
He was saying that if Simon submitted this very thesis for that crucial assignment, it would already be enough to pass.
'It's worth that much, certainly.'
Aaron believed that this alone would leave him no choice but to give Simon an A+. The thesis was that excellent.
But.
"I respectfully decline."
Simon answered without a moment's hesitation. The nervous boy from moments ago was gone; eyes anchored firm and steady now met Aaron's gaze.
"I don't intend to take back what I've said. For my final performance assessment, I will submit a Lich. Without fail."
"......"
That bursting youth and passion of his.
No matter how many times he looked, Simon reminded Aaron of his younger self.
But Aaron was an adult now, and so he had no choice but to speak like one.
"Even if you truly do create a Lich and submit it—if the Lich falls short of complete, that thesis of yours could score higher than it does."
Simon closed his mouth and simply smiled, slow and easy.
That was answer enough.
"......Fine. The thesis passes. This conference is going to be quite the spectacle, in more ways than one."
Aaron then walked them through the precautions.
Since the event drew every imaginable kind of person, the three students were warned to stay together at all times, and to avoid giving the other necromancers anything to hold against them.
The three nodded.
"I believe this conference will be a good experience for you all. Come back having learned a great deal. Dismissed."
And so, the next morning.
Simon, along with Serne and Kajan, arrived in Pentamonium—the city hosting the conference—via a teleportation circle.
"Woooow......!"
If he had to sum up his first impression of this city in a single phrase, it would be 'the City of Glass.'
Most striking of all were the colossal structures, dozens of stories tall, carved from an ore so refined it was translucent like glass, soaring skyward as if to pierce the heavens.
People called these buildings the 'Glass Towers'—the counterpart to the Ivory Tower—and each tower was dedicated to a single branch of dark magic. There were seven in total.
'And there are so many people.'
Along the roadside stood necromancers dressed in sharp, stylish suits.
There were plenty of ordinary civilians too, their cores unopened—the ratio of civilians to necromancers during the conference period ran roughly three to seven.
Throughout the conference, nearly every district except the core zones was opened to the general public.
Even for those who weren't necromancers themselves, modern industry ran on jet-black and dark magic. If only to track the trends and catch the scent of money, the conference was well worth attending.
"It feels so good to finally get out of that stuffy Roc Island after so long."
Serne smiled, sliding her sunglasses up onto her forehead.
The eyes of passersby naturally drifted toward her. Young and old, men and women alike, everyone stole glances in Serne's direction. From all around came murmurs—how pretty, that must be a Kizen uniform, and so on.
Certainly, simply wearing the Kizen uniform was enough to draw an enormous amount of attention. That was how powerful the Kizen brand name was out in the wider world.
Serne paid it no mind, gave a dismissive little snort, and pulled out a mirror. Kajan checked the time once, then spoke.
"I've been assigned as your coordinator, so I'll be guiding you."
"Hold on a second."
Simon looked at Kajan as if to say, good thing you mentioned it.
"Why are you even here, Kajan? You never told me a word about it."
"Mission."
Kajan replied offhandedly.
Mission—the magic word Kajan used for everything. Anything more and Simon got the distinct feeling he'd get hurt asking.
"What kind of mission?"
Having grown close to Kajan by now, Simon asked without much thought. Kajan let out a single sigh before answering.
"A bodyguard mission."
Then he cast a brief glance in Serne's direction as well.
"And a surveillance mission."
"?"
Serne blinked with an expression of pure innocence, but Kajan ignored her.
"Do we really need bodyguards somewhere this crowded and封闭—this packed with people?"
At Simon's question, Kajan slowly scratched at the scar beside his eye.
"You were ambushed by Legion Commander Magnus even inside Roc Island, Simon. The Crows only recently tracked him down and forced him to lie low, but there's no harm in being careful."
"Right. Understood. Careful it is......"
"Oh! Now that I think of it!"
Serne abruptly cut in, throwing her arms around Simon's and Kajan's shoulders.
"This lineup! We're together again! The Hidden-Power Saintess-Slayer Trio!"
Simon gave a wry smile.
'Terrible name.'
"Get off."
Kajan said, scowling.
In the end, Serne released them with a sulky pout, and Kajan gestured for them to follow.
"This way."
Following Kajan, they arrived at the first floor of the Glass Tower dedicated to the Summoning discipline. According to his explanation, the entire building was a Summoning-related facility.
'Oh!'
The huge placard at the entrance was packed with the event schedules being held in the building. A new summoned-beast contest, no-holds-barred debates, lecture programs featuring famous figures—the list went on.
'Amazing. So this is the academic conference!'
For Simon, with his deep love of Summoning, this place was practically heaven. His eyes darted back and forth.
'I want to see ALL of it! If only I had ten bodies.'
As Simon was scanning the schedule, he spotted his own name on it.
— Necromancer Student Thesis Presentations —
Kizen · Aland · Sierra · Moiran
Apparently, students from other necromancer academies had come besides Kizen.
Today was the 2nd-years' turn to present, and the 1st-year presentations were scheduled for the very next day.
'I can't wait!'
While Simon's heart raced over the schedule, Serne and Kajan were busy fighting.
"I said five minutes is all I need?"
"We go together."
"My, my. How far do you intend to follow me, hm? There's something unseemly about it."
"How far I go is for me to decide."
In the end, Serne and Kajan walked off together.
Simon decided to wait, taking a seat nearby. His head was already brimming with thoughts of what to see first.
"Oh! Well, if it isn't someone special."
A high-pitched voice broke into his musings.
"The distinguished Kizen student has graced us with his presence."
"Elite among elites, isn't he?"
Two male students and one female student in green plaid uniforms were approaching Simon.
Simon's eyes went wide.
'No way.'
This was the first time he would be facing students from another necromancer academy.