Wraith Crow Express
With Simon having earned an 'A+' in the final practical evaluation for Magic Combat, the next one was already waiting for him.
The subject: Professor Byeolya's Toxicology.
And the name of Toxicology's final practical evaluation was the Comprehensive Assessment of the Dark Poison System and Resistance System.
"Pretty much a first, isn't it?"
At the outdoor training grounds.
"Me and you going head to head."
Simon's opponent was Rick.
Rick had his arms stretched out, kneading and massaging his biceps as if to show them off.
"I guess so."
Simon rested his hands on his hips and smiled. Toxicology's final practical evaluation took the form of one-on-one combat, but it wasn't really a relative assessment — it was closer to an absolute one.
The rules were simple. Each participant struck the other with the Dark Poison System to inflict infection, then simultaneously activated the Resistance System, and whoever broke free of the poison first won.
Grading, of course, was based not on the win or loss but on the detailed metrics of both the Dark Poison System and the Resistance System.
"Roommate or not, I'm not going easy on you!"
Rick declared as he completed his magic circle.
"That's my line."
Simon likewise spread a magic circle across his palm and took his stance. Just then, Byeolya, who had finished observing the previous team, came walking toward the two of them.
"Well, well, look at that — it's our little cutie's turn?"
Showing off her jagged shark teeth, Byeolya ruffled Simon's hair this way and that.
Rick spotted it and immediately spoke up.
"Ah, hold on a second! Isn't showing favoritism right before a duel against the rules? I formally object!"
"Ugh, you're such a stickler! A professor's allowed to dote on her student, alright? You got a problem with that? Huh?"
"Then do it to me too, professor!"
Rick said, pointing proudly at the crown of his own head.
"Get lost, you weasel."
"Whoa, that's discrimination! Down with discrimination!"
Byeolya burst out laughing at the sight of him fuming.
The Head TA, clutching her evaluation forms to her chest, came hurrying over belatedly.
"Professor! What did you do this time?"
Byeolya quickly looked away, feigning innocence.
"Ahem. I didn't do anything."
"I keep telling you, students get sensitive when their grades are on the line — please take this seriously!"
The Head TA rattled off her scolding, and Byeolya pouted her lips and covered her ears.
Simon watched the scene with deep satisfaction.
Back during the whole 'Claudia boycott incident,' the Head TA hadn't even dared meet Byeolya's eyes, but by the end of the semester she seemed to have developed quite a spine. Then again, the two of them did seem to have grown closer, too.
"Alright, get ready."
Byeolya said it lazily, but there was a charisma in her voice worthy of a Kizen professor.
Simon and Rick both clasped their hands together and held them before their chests.
"Ready, aaand~ begin!"
Byeolya snapped her fingers as the start signal.
Toxic Whip
Toxic Whip
The two boys cast Toxic Whip at the same instant, lashing out at each other. Simon's whip was a grassy green; Rick's a deep brown.
POW!
The moment both of them took the hit and were infected, they dropped into cross-legged positions on the ground and drew up their Jet-Black.
Focus...!
Simon's Toxic Whip was merely average, but his 'Resistance System' was another matter — there he was confident.
He activated his dark magic to convert the blood at the infection site into Blood Poison and began analyzing the harmful substance that had entered his body.
'Huh.'
Simon, reaching for the herbs laid out beside the antidote kit, twitched an eyebrow.
'This composition is tricky.'
The protein particles were hopelessly tangled together, making analysis difficult. Normally, you'd observe how the Blood Poison mutated once the toxin entered the body and use that to determine the direction of your antidote, but the reactions were blurring together, impossible to tell apart.
'Impressive.'
Rick's Toxicology was at a considerably higher level than it looked.
While Simon chewed the herbs and worked through the poison's structure, Rick was groaning through his own antidote work — and not forgetting to sneak glances at Simon's condition, either.
'His complexion's already easing up. Is this guy actually an alien?'
Rick's Resistance System skills themselves weren't anything special, but thankfully Simon's Dark Poison System was textbook-simple, which made things easier for him.
And so the two boys groaned and grunted their way through neutralizing their poisons, until—
"Done!"
Rick raised his hand first. The Head TA checked the timer and recorded the time.
"Yes — Rick Hayward, six minutes and twenty-eight seconds."
"I won!"
Rick threw his arms up in a triumphant cheer. Simon raised his arm right after him.
"Simon Polentia, six minutes and thirty seconds."
Simon let out a wistful smile. Rick, not even close to being gracious about it, waved his index finger tauntingly.
"Now, the analysis results."
While the two boys had been busy neutralizing their poisons, the other TAs had been analyzing the poison left spilled on the ground. Byeolya compiled the results and delivered her verdict.
"Simon's Resistance System is, without argument, top of the first year. But his Dark Poison System is average. That's where he lost a lot of points — still, that lands you a B+. Good work."
"Thank you, Professor!"
A B+ put him near the top of the entire cohort. Simon expressed his thanks, satisfied.
"And the weasel here is the exact opposite — his Dark Poison System is top-tier, but his Resistance System instincts are comparatively crap."
"C-cr crap?!"
Rick bristled.
"That said, the way you twist the composition around in knots so your opponent can't neutralize it — that Dark Poison System of yours is genuinely impressive. You get an A."
"OOOOH!"
It was Rick's first 'A' of the practical evaluations.
Excluding specialists like Claudia, that was an overwhelmingly top score.
Rick bowed deeply, again and again.
"Thank you kindly, Professor! As of today, I'm officially a Toxicology hopeful!"
"You little—weasel!"
Byeolya laughed merrily and kicked Rick square in the shin. Rick hopped around clutching his leg, yelping in pain — but the grin never left his face.
"Congrats, Rick."
Simon offered his congratulations too.
While Byeolya and the TAs moved on to the next students, Rick suddenly spoke up.
"Hey... should I actually major in Toxicology?"
"...We're almost done with first year and you still haven't picked a major?"
"Call it the sorrow of a master-to-be."
Rick touched his fingertips to his forehead and shook his head — then thrust his hand out toward Simon.
"Anyway, the Summoning final is this afternoon, right? Just you wait. I'll beat you in your declared major too!"
Simon only smiled.
* * *
Three hours later.
"Rick Hayward."
Summoning Professor Aaron was holding a copy of Rick's thesis, his expression grim.
"That was a remarkable presentation."
It was now the Summoning final practical evaluation — the presentation session for Class A theses on Designing and Theorizing Magic-Type Undead.
Rick stood stiffly at the podium, his face taut with nerves, and before him sat a single crow confined in a cage.
But Aaron's expression was far from pleased.
"Train an undead 'Wraith Crow' to replace the existing courier pigeon system, is it..."
"Th-that's right! Isn't it absolutely insane?!"
Rick threw up double thumbs-up in a flourish, but the instant his eyes met Aaron's, he snapped back to attention.
"Show me."
"Pardon?"
Aaron tossed Rick a bundle of papers lying nearby.
"Prove right now, at least from here to the end of the classroom, whether this Wraith Crow can do a courier pigeon's job."
"Ah, ah! That much is elementary!"
Rick opened the cage and brought out the Wraith Crow. Undead or not, it looked no different from an ordinary crow on the surface.
Rick connected to the death-essence link, holding the crow's gaze for a moment, then hurried to the far end of the classroom.
"Alright! Beginning the demonstration now!"
Rick's voice rang out from across the room.
"Pick up that paper bundle and bring it here!"
The command was given.
But.
—...
The Wraith Crow showed no reaction. It preened its feathers with its beak, then scurried about pecking at the classroom floor.
"Over here! I said come here!"
The classroom erupted into laughter. When the Wraith Crow lifted one leg and unloaded a dollop of something unspeakable directly onto the paper bundle, the students doubled over, clutching their stomachs.
"That's enough. Come back."
Finally Aaron, unable to watch any longer, put a stop to it. Rick trudged back to the podium, head hanging low.
"If the author of the thesis can't even control his own Wraith Crow, what then?"
"I-I'm sorry."
"And there are more problems."
As a Summoning professor, Aaron picked the thesis apart point by point.
A single necromancer commanded a considerable price on the market — what necromancer in their right mind would accept a pittance to sit in a crow coop, tending and dispatching crows all day? When a delivery ran long enough for the death-essence link to sever, the crow would have to rely on its homing instinct — but becoming undead dulled precisely those biological instincts. And then there was the fact that the absolute-coordinate formula drawn into the summoning circle itself was wrong.
"E-minus."
Aaron said flatly.
"The highest grade I can give you. The only reason it isn't an F is that I rate your imagination highly. Dismissed."
Rick slunk back to his seat, utterly deflated. A few kind-hearted students gave him a smattering of consolation applause.
"Pffft. Pffhah!"
The moment he sat down, Meilin clapped a hand over her mouth, fighting for her life to hold in her laughter.
"The Wraith Crow courier service... pffhah! 'Isn't it absolutely insane?!'... pfft!"
"Please, just kill me."
Rick said, unable to bear the shame.
Simon, in the seat beside him, silently gave Rick's shoulder a couple of consoling pats, then hung his head — he was fighting down his own laughter too.
"...Hah, h-hang in there, Rick."
Camibarez pressed her hands together and did her best to comfort him. Rick dabbed at imaginary tears — truly, Cami was the only one who understood.
"But seriously."
This was going to be the joke of the week, at least, so Rick hurriedly changed the subject.
"Why is it so packed in here?"
This wasn't even the official thesis conference, yet beyond the Class A students there were second- and third-year seniors — even adults. TAs sent by professors and researchers from Kizen headquarters had claimed seats as well.
"Why do you think?"
Meilin snickered and looked at Simon.
"Next — Simon Polentia. Step forward."
Only at Aaron's words did the crowd begin to murmur.
The truth was, aside from the Class A students presenting that day, nearly everyone gathered here had come to wait for one thing: Simon's 'Herseba.'
"Go get 'em!"
"Simon! You've got this!"
Cheered on by his groupmates, Simon tucked his presentation materials and thesis under his arm and walked up. He politely handed a copy of his thesis to Aaron, then faced the audience.
"Good afternoon. I am Simon Polentia of Class A."
CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP!!
An eruption of wildly excited applause. The heat in the room was already at a boil.
"Then I'll begin."
Simon opened his subspace, and out of it popped Herseba.
Murmur murmur MURMUR!
Instantly, all order dissolved. People leapt up from their seats all over the room, desperate to lay eyes on Herseba.
"Everyone, please, take your seats!"
"Eyes on your own seat, will you?"
Even the dignified adults were on their feet in their excitement.
[Hey, kid, what is this? I feel like an exhibit at the zoo.]
'Just bear with it a little longer.'
THUD!
At that moment, the murmur died down.
Aaron had slammed his hand against the blackboard.
"I let you in to observe the class because you begged so pitifully, but if our students are harmed even once more, I will throw every last one of you out."
At that single sentence, the audience went unbelievably quiet.
Simon bowed his head briefly toward Aaron in thanks, then faced forward.
"I'll begin now."
Summoning, A+.
The grade he absolutely had to claim as a declared-major student — and so Simon raised his chalk with serious eyes.