The Barrier That Never Broke
Simon's declaration was nothing short of outrageous.
—We are not trash, honored judges.
The moment his words ended, the crowd erupted in cheers, while the judges fled their seats with faces burning scarlet.
As Simon turned his back and descended from the podium, students from the three great necromancer academies came swarming around him.
"You've redeemed yourself, Kizen!"
"That felt SO good!!"
"I'm sorry about yesterday. You really are on another level."
Students showered him with thanks from every direction. Simon was a little flustered by the crowd pressing in on him, but he accepted their greetings with a smile.
"Thank you, thank you so much, Simon! You've totally won me back!"
Benz from Aland in particular chased Simon all the way, shouting his gratitude at the top of his lungs. Basking in the fervent welcome, Simon made his way down the steps.
"My, my—"
But there in the corridor leading out of the presentation hall stood Serne, arms crossed. Benz, trailing behind Simon, flinched reflexively.
"Wasn't your guideline to avoid making enemies whenever possible, Simon?"
"......"
"That's what I thought. You didn't need to say any of that for the sake of those riffraff."
As Serne spoke, her gaze sweeping over Benz, his expression darkened and stiffened.
"Simon's paper was the only one chosen by the judges. Trampling those fools and earning Pentamonium's recognition—that was the scenario where you shone brightest. So why did you deliberately take the losing end of the deal?"
At that, the voice of the student council president Simon had met the day before flickered at the edge of his memory.
—Never let others drag your life along! March down your own path, armed with a burning heart and grand dreams!
"I wasn't thinking anything that calculated."
Simon smiled faintly. It hadn't been for the students' sake, nor for any gain of his own.
"In that moment, I was simply honest with my feelings."
Serne gave a meaningful little hmm~ and curved her lips into a smile.
"Let's go."
Suddenly, Kajan's voice cut in.
Simon looked up to find Kajan clinging to the ceiling like a bat—and then dropping down with a thud right beside him.
"GWAAH! What the—?!"
Benz shrieked and fell flat on his rear.
"Kajan, what were you doing up there?"
"Daily exercise. Let's move."
The two of them departed with Simon in the middle. Benz and the students watched his retreating back with eyes full of many emotions.
The news that a Kizen first-year kid had utterly humiliated a panel of judges—elders, no less—at the student thesis presentation spread through all of Pentamonium at breathtaking speed.
Curiously, there were almost no reactions like 'How dare a student be so insolent.' Necromancers simply found the newest topic of gossip entertaining.
And just as Simon had planned from the start, he registered his own paper—Skeleton Mages and Corpse Explosion—for the Pentamonium auction.
The procedure that normally took weeks, sometimes longer, was astonishingly concluded in just two hours, and the paper went straight to auction. Kajan said it seemed the upper echelon of Pentamonium had moved on it directly.
"Wouldn't that mean we've been marked by them, though?"
At Simon's dazed question, Kajan shook his head.
"The rumors spread faster than we expected. And Pentamonium isn't stupid enough to cover for a few judges only to have the whole organization doused in ink. If anything, they'll exploit this situation."
"True enough. A blessing in disguise~"
Serne said with a grin. She'd called it 'taking the losing end of the deal' earlier, but judging by her expression, she'd known all along it would turn out this way.
Ultimately, Simon's actions became a guaranteed publicity engine.
The rumor spread like wildfire: a Kizen first-year kid who made the judges eat dirt wrote a paper—and that paper turned out to be Corpse Explosion-casting Skeleton Mages. Not just the central auction hall, but the second and third halls filled to capacity.
Simon watched from the spectator seats alongside Serne and Kajan.
It was called an auction, but it was closer to an event for buying and selling knowledge. Put simply, Simon would receive money in exchange for sharing his 'original' work with others.
Beyond that, because Simon had formally registered his paper with Pentamonium, any necromancer who built new results on his research in the future would owe him royalties. Whatever happened, as long as his work took off, he'd be sitting on a mountain of gold.
Simon gazed at the auctioneer.
"We will begin at five thousand gold."
The starting bid alone already exceeded the target amount Simon had in mind.
Simon bit his thumbnail, his face a mask of tension.
......Isn't this too high? At five thousand gold, is anyone even going to bid?
He was anxiously scanning the faces around him when the auctioneer finally declared the auction open. Bids came pouring in immediately.
"Five thousand gold! Five thousand five hundred gold!"
The numbers began climbing in an instant.
Every time a hand shot up, Simon's rear end bounced with excitement. It felt wonderful—as if all those people bidding were affirming the value of his research.
The sum blew past six thousand, then seven thousand, and finally—
"Ten thousand gold! Do I hear more than ten thousand gold?"
It took less than a minute to hit ten thousand. And still the crowd raced to raise their hands.
"Fifteen thousand gold!"
"Sixteen thousand gold!"
Triple his target of five thousand. At this point, Simon gave up on thinking altogether.
"Seventeen thousand gold!"
"Twenty thousand gold!"
"Twenty-five thousand gold!"
The money grew at an exponential rate, until at last—
"Thirty thousand gold! Thirty thousand gold! Thirty thousand gold! Congratulations, Count Bolore! Sold for thirty thousand gold!"
Thunderous applause broke out. That man named Bolore, one of the auction's participants, sprang from his seat and threw both arms up in celebration.
"......"
And Simon, wearing a completely blank expression, pinched his own cheek.
It hurt.
It wasn't a dream.
Thirty thousand gold?!
If Simon had been a man without an ounce of ambition, it was more than enough to hole up in some remote mountain village and live out his days free of financial worry.
It's just Skeleton Mages casting Corpse Explosion. Was my research really worth that much?
He was a little dumbfounded.
He'd come here to gather materials for the Lich's Life Vessel—and with this kind of income, it seemed he could afford a heart of the very highest quality.
"Congratulations, Simon!"
"Well done."
Serne and Kajan offered their congratulations too. Serne especially grabbed Simon's arm and shook it, her voice dripping with aegyo.
"You made all that money, so buy us something delicious!"
"Ah, yeah! Of course."
In his current mood, he felt ready to ring the golden bell at some expensive restaurant.
But there was something he had to do before the celebratory meal. At the auction house's request, Simon went straight away to meet the buyer, Bolore.
The two sat facing each other in an extravagantly luxurious room.
"I've been so looking forward to meeting you, Student Simon Polentia!"
Count Bolore, instantly recognizable by his twin mustaches, ruled a volcanic territory of the kingdom called 'Clonmel'—and he was a practicing necromancer himself.
His territory suffered such frequent monster attacks that, with royal permission, he even maintained a private army of necromancers, yet even that wasn't enough to repel every assault.
Then he'd learned of Skeleton Mages wielding Corpse Explosion, a spell devastatingly effective against monsters—and that the key ingredient was the Muspel, common in volcanic territories like his own. That was what had decided him to bid.
Simon revealed one hundred percent of the paper's contents to the buyer. Bolore nodded along repeatedly as he listened, marveling at every turn.
"So the hexa formula could be replaced even here! I'm envious. It seems Kizen's professors teach even methods this original!"
Simon only smiled. In truth, he'd never been taught any of it.
And so Simon and Bolore lost themselves in an animated back-and-forth about the new research.
"Magnificent! Your research might as well have saved our entire territory, Student Simon!"
Bolore said this as he lovingly tucked a copy of the paper into his bag.
"If my research proves helpful, the honor is mine."
Simon smiled back.
Talking with Bolore left him with a sense of tremendous power and momentum. He'd come to sell a paper to fund his search for the Lich's materials, and instead he was earning high praise from necromancers active in the field—and even better, his work would be put to good use.
He was still nothing more than a student, but it felt as though he'd stepped beyond the school and actually contributed something to the world, and that made him happy.
"I look forward to seeing where you go after graduation. As your senior in the profession, I'll be watching your career with great interest."
"Thank you very much!"
Bolore stepped out, telling the auction house staff he would finalize the purchase. The two men pressed their blood-seals to the documents, shared a final handshake, and parted ways.
Before long, an auction house employee approached Simon.
"Will you take payment in gold coins, or by check?"
"Gold coins, please."
Simon followed the employee. And a short while later—
Good heavens.
A treasure chest packed tight with gold coins was waiting for him. After the auction house's ten percent cut, twenty-seven thousand gold belonged to Simon.
He reverently tucked the treasure chest away into his subspace.
"You like it that much? Your whole face just lit up."
Serne chuckled. Simon suddenly felt sheepish and scratched the side of his head.
"You know what?"
Serne slipped in, casting her line with elaborate casualness.
"If you joined the Ivory Tower, you'd earn tens of times that amo—"
"Serne!"
Simon suddenly shouted, eyes going wide.
"Could it be—!"
"Yes?"
Serne blinked rapidly, startled.
Don't tell me money actually works on him? Was he the type who could be bought after all—despite how he looks?
"Instead of these knowledge auctions, does Pentamonium ever hold ITEM auctions too?!"
"......"
Serne's pouting lips jutted out three full knuckles' worth.
"Hmph, how should I know!"
"They do."
Kajan, who had once again dropped from the ceiling with a whoosh, answered this time.
"Want to go see?"
"Yes! I want to look!"
With thirty thousand gold tucked against his chest, the world suddenly looked different.
Meanwhile, at the same time—
"Come along, come along, ladies and gentlemen! Follow me, if you please!"
The Pentamonium Academic Conference—open to the public just once a year.
It was an event anyone of the Dark League yearned to attend.
Entry required teleportation magic circles, which meant astronomical costs—not to mention an invitation from Pentamonium itself.
Receiving Pentamonium's invitation was a tremendous honor, and at aristocratic salons, the question of who had and hadn't been invited decided who could hold their heads high and who had to slink away. The invitation itself had become a yardstick for measuring a noble's power and wealth.
"This time, I shall guide you to the most dangerous place in all of Pentamonium!"
The high nobles who had entered the city were giddy with the sense of having been chosen.
The guide employed by Pentamonium soothed the high nobles and noble ladies along, giving them a tour of the city.
"We will be proceeding to the very edge of the Barrier. I beseech you—do not, under any circumstances, meet eyes with the dreadful things beyond it. Should you accidentally lock gazes—"
Riding along in their carriages, the guide waggled her fingers and flashed a knowing smile.
"—you might be cursed!"
The ladies screamed in feigned terror and leaned delicately into the gentlemen's arms, and for a while the gentlemen, flushed, postured about how the ladies needn't worry, for they would protect them.
Thus the carriages arrived at the Barrier.
"This barrier was erected by the first President of Pentamonium, Duke Goris, and repaired by the Great Witch of Death herself. In all of Pentamonium's history, it has never once allowed an outside intrusion! It is the very reason this city stands today."
Beyond the Barrier stretched a desolate black wasteland, so devoid of life-force it was almost unnerving. Zombies could be seen shambling on the far side.
With a barrier thin as paper as the dividing line, one side held an extremely advanced city of human civilization while the other was a wasteland of death—a truly magnificent sight.
"It... it won't collapse, will it?"
One noble lady, eyeing the shambling zombies in the distance, asked in a voice thick with fear.
"Haha! Not once has it fallen since Pentamonium was founded! Now then, we'll have twenty minutes of free time. Feel free to look around as you please!"
Pentamonium's Barrier was a famously fashionable photo spot among the nobility. Nobles gathered in twos and threes, snapping pictures with expensive mana-cameras—the very pinnacle of extravagance.
But once the photos were done, the nobles peering out at the zombies beyond the Barrier quickly lost interest.
"Guide! We've seen everything here, so let's move on."
"Yeees~ my lady. Of course! We will now proceed to the highlight of this excursion—the Artifact Auction House, where you may bid in person for the rarest treasures in the world."
"At last, the main event!"
Just as the nobles boarded their carriages once more and set off toward the heart of Pentamonium—
Crreeeak.
Crack.
The Barrier that had never once, in all of history, allowed an intrusion—
was beginning, ever so slightly, to fracture.