The Weekend Trip to Rochest
The next day was the weekend.
Simon came down to Rochest for the very first time.
"Whoa."
Rochest was an incredibly young and lively city. Impromptu concerts and events popped up on every corner, and Kizen students in their casual clothes danced, played instruments, and enjoyed themselves to their hearts' content.
Granted, it was modest compared to the capital of Langestin, but to Simon, Rochest somehow felt a little more charming.
First, Simon spread out his map and stopped by a necromancer shop. It was the place Dick had personally recommended, swearing it had the best prices around.
The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, a young clerk greeted him warmly.
"Welcome, how can I hel—... huh?"
The clerk's face split into a bright grin.
"Simon! It's Simon, isn't it?"
...Who was this again?
While Simon was racking his brain over this suddenly familiar stranger, the clerk fortunately introduced himself first.
"It's me, it's me! Lowen! We met on the first day of orientation!"
"Oh...!"
The colossal chatterbox who'd ridden the Underworld Whale with him. Whatever anyone said, Lowen was the first friend Simon had made since arriving at Kizen.
"Hey! I never expected to run into you here."
"Great to see you, man! You're in Class A, right? I'm in Class D! And let me tell you, Class D is brutal! I never in a million years imagined the half-giant Chatel Maer would end up in MY class! And Class A has Special Admission No. 1—oh wait! That's you, isn't it! Wow, right. Yes, that's right! The moment your identity was revealed at orientation, shivers ran down my entire spine—!"
Here we go again.
Before things could get any more of a headache, Simon hurriedly changed the subject.
"So, what do you do here?"
"Part-time job, as you can see."
Lowen shrugged his shoulders.
"A guy's gotta earn his allowance. Part-time gigs in Rochest pay pretty well, so it works out great."
A part-time job, huh. Not bad.
Simon had been starting to worry about money himself. The monthly stipend the school provided barely covered the cost of his class materials.
"Do you think I could find a part-time job too?"
"Hmm, honestly, you're a step behind at this point! All the openings got snapped up last week, I'd bet. Way too many people are after them."
"Shame."
Money mattered, of course, but that wasn't why he'd come here today.
When Simon said he'd come to buy skeleton sets, Lowen kindly pointed him to where they were kept.
Twenty Island Ratman skeleton sets.
It was a hefty hit to his funds right out of the gate, but there was no helping it. He'd need a great many skeletons for the upcoming Cyclops assessment next week.
And besides, even when the skeletons' lifespans ran out, they could simply be absorbed into the Legion's forces, so there was no real loss.
After also purchasing materials for a few other undead he wanted to practice with, Simon left the necromancer shop.
Right, next up.
Simon pulled out and rustled the note where he'd jotted down his shopping list.
Weapons for the skeletons.
This time, his destination was the weapons shop.
You could buy weapons at the necromancer shop too, but Dick had dropped the insider tip that buying them there cost a fortune.
"Welcome in!"
A middle-aged man running the shop greeted him with a beaming smile. He gave Simon's uniform a quick once-over, and his smile grew even wider.
"What are you looking for today, young man? We just got in a new model of Jet-Black Sword forged from obsidian—cuts like a dream!"
Without so much as a by-your-leave, the shop owner pressed a sword from the wall display into Simon's hand and told him to draw it from its sheath.
When Simon applied a touch of force, the sheath popped open with a click, revealing a gleaming jet-black blade.
"It's, it's a fine sword. But I don't really need anything this fancy..."
"Then how about this! Combat armor built exclusively for Magic Combat! Latest model, with firepower that—"
"I'm here to buy weapons for skeletons!"
Simon cut in quickly.
The shop owner's expression visibly deflated. He slumped back into his seat and, with a listless look, jerked his thumb toward a corner of the store.
Shelves there were crammed full of cheap, bargain-bin swords.
"Thank you!"
Whether the man cared or not, Simon happily jogged over to the shelves. Most of them were failed products or secondhand goods, but they were perfect for undead.
Simon carefully inspected each one—opening and closing the blades, running his fingers along the edges, flicking them with his fingertips to check their quality.
By the end, he'd bought five swords and five spears, plus a pair of shields.
"I'll take all of these, please!"
Simon dumped the weapons onto the counter in a heap. The shop owner, who'd been sitting there with his chin in his hand, started in surprise.
"You're... you're buying all of this?"
"Yes."
The shop owner's face relaxed noticeably as he began adding up the prices. Still, he seemed a little concerned, and remarked offhandedly,
"What do you need all this for? You're a first-year, aren't you? Even with skeletons, controlling two or three at once is about your limit, no?"
"I'm stocking up in advance. Blades wear out fast, after all."
As the shop owner looked over the weapons Simon had picked out, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You've got a good eye—these are all the best-condition pieces on the shelf. Did you get some real combat experience before coming to Kizen?"
"Nothing like that. My father taught me how to pick out a good weapon."
"My, my! You've got a fine father there!"
The shop owner burst into a hearty laugh.
"I know, I know, this is the age of necromancers and priests and all that. But fundamentals are fundamentals! FUNDAMENTALS! A man ought to strap one magnificent sword to his hip and—hey!—know how to defend his own skin with it!"
"Absolutely."
Apparently this old fellow took his profession rather seriously.
Simon offered the occasional supportive grunt, and the shop owner, clearly in high spirits now, kept laughing away.
"Five swords for the skeleton weapon sets: 250 silver. Five spears: 200 silver. Two wooden shields: 100 silver. That's 550 silver all together—but I'll take just 500."
"Thank you!"
"No, the pleasure's mine. A young noble deigning to match the vibe of my humble wares and all. Ah! Wait here just a moment, would you?"
The equipment merchant disappeared into the back and returned shortly with a bow and a quiver of arrows.
"This one's made of ebony, so it channels Jet-Black with excellent efficiency—bow and arrows, that is. Normally I'd have to charge you a full gold for it, but this one's on the house."
Simon's eyes went wide.
"F-for free? I can't accept something this expensive!"
"Oh, come off it! How many years do you think I've been running a shop in Rochest? Humble as my trade may be, I know how to read people. I can tell at a glance who'll be packing up and heading home soon, and who'll survive all the way to third year. Stuff like that."
The shop owner set the bow atop Simon's bundle of weapons as he spoke.
"If you're going to be coming back for weapons over the next three years, consider becoming a regular. That's what this is for. And hey, if you happen to introduce some friends along the way, even better."
"Still, a whole gold..."
"Bows don't sell well at Kizen anyway. Take it without worrying. You do know how to use one, right?"
"Yes, I do, but..."
When the man put it that way, refusing would be downright rude. Simon bowed his head in gratitude.
"Come again soon!"
With his thrifty shopping done, Simon made his way to his next destination in high spirits.
He picked up a few more class materials—stuff for Toxicology and his other courses—and stowed everything in his subspace.
Pier, let's head out.
[Understood!]
It was time to head to the ruins to train with Pier.
He felt a twinge of dread about entering the Forbidden Forest again, but fortunately, Pier was kind enough to come out and meet him in the woods. Clambering onto Pier's back, Simon reached the ruins in just a few minutes.
Clack!
Clack!
"Everyone doing well?"
As Simon entered, the legionified skeletons crowded around him like puppies greeting their master. Simon smiled and patted each of them on the head.
"Pier. Here—the skeletons for legionification."
Simon pulled the damaged skeletons out of his subspace.
Pier licked his lips with a dry rasp.
[Quite a lot of wounded ones.]
"They took a beating in that last simulation battle."
When Pier laid a hand on a damaged skeleton's skull, jet-blue flames roared to life in the empty eye sockets like torches being lit. The Legion's skeleton count now stood at eight.
[Getting downright rowdy in here now!]
"Good."
Once the legionification of the damaged skeletons was complete, the two of them sat down facing each other.
[As I said before, this training is going to be brutal! You're prepared for that, aren't you?]
"Yes, of course!"
Not much time remained until the Cyclops assessment. Simon intended to push his skeleton control skills as far as they could go over the weekend.
First, Simon assembled the skeletons he'd bought at the necromancer shop.
Six skeletons soon stood before him, weapons in hand, while on the opposite side stood six of the legionified skeletons.
Simon's summoned ones on one team, and Pier's natural ones on the other. The skeletons seemed to know it too, rattling their bones at each other and squaring off in a war of nerves.
[You said you can control two skeletons at once right now, yes?]
"Yes."
Whenever Simon tried to control three or more simultaneously, the thoughts in his head tangled together and his command structure collapsed into chaos.
Worse still, his mental strength drained rapidly and a maddening headache set in—it was simply unbearable.
[Heh heh heh, no need to rush! What matters isn't how many you can control at once, but how WELL you handle even one or two of them!]
"Understood."
[I'll only control two at a time as well! Come at me, boy!]
"Yes, sir!"
Simon thrust out his right arm.
Charge!
Two sword-wielding skeletons kicked off the ground and lunged forward. Pier sent two of his own sword-wielders charging as well.
CLANG!
CLANG!
Blade met blade in a series of clashes, the harsh shriek of steel ringing through the ruins.
Just as Simon was weighing his next move, two of Pier's spear-wielding skeletons suddenly thrust their weapons at his skeletons from behind.
...Ugh, fall back!
Simon's skeletons withdrew by a hair's breadth. In response, Pier's vanguard swordsmen pushed forward, pressing their advantage against the skeletons thrown off balance by the retreat.
CLANG! CLANG!
Simon's skeletons caught the blows with their backs bent at a precarious, teetering angle.
Then, as if they'd been waiting for just that moment, the spear-wielders wheeled back around and swung their shafts at their legs—and Simon's skeletons collapsed to the ground, pinned and subdued.
...I lost.
Swallowing his frustration, Simon lowered his arm and turned.
"That's cheating, Pier! You said we'd only use two at a time!"
Four against two was hardly a fair fight. Pier let out a hearty laugh at Simon's protest.
[What are you on about! I controlled mine two at a time, same as you!]
"What? What do you... oh!"
That's right.
Pier had moved the sword-wielding skeletons first, then switched to the spear-wielders, then back to the swords—cycling between the two pairs, one after the other.
[Well, it's nothing all that impressive. It's called cross-control! You rapidly shuttle your control authority between your skeletons to widen the reach of your limited control.]*
"...Ah."
[If you can't connect to multiple skeletons simultaneously, the trick is to run them two at a time and cycle through so that ALL of them are moving! Do you understand?]
Clack, clack.
Before Pier had even finished speaking, two of Simon's spear-wielding skeletons stepped forward.
Focus.
He had the sword-wielders spread their palms open. Then he switched over to the spear-wielders and had them high-five those palms.
"Is this how it's done?"
[......]
After a brief silence, the corners of Pier's jawbone curled upward.
[Puhuhuhu! Teaching really does have its rewards!]
"Excuse me?"
[Nothing at all. If you've got the feel for it, straight to live combat we go!]
"Yes, sir! Ready when you are!"
* * *
On the first day of the weekend, he drilled undead control and cross-operations with Pier. Whether his skills had actually improved or not, Simon could now manage up to three skeletons at once.
The following afternoon, they returned to Kizen. He ran through combat rehearsals with Meilin, Camibarez, and Dick, working to get their timing in sync for the real fight.
Simon would stall the Cyclops with his undead for as long as possible, then feed it four Exhausts and a single Dark Flare all at once—and the battle would begin in earnest.
From there, as the Cyclops gradually weakened, they'd feed it two more Dark Flares, and the fight would end in victory.
To minimize mistakes, they repeated only that one pattern, over and over.
It wasn't an Avalon simulation, and fighting an imaginary battle against empty air was exhausting enough on its own. By the end, they were all sprawled on the ground, gulping down water.
"Simon! That tutoring you mentioned getting in Rochest over the weekend—who was it from?"
Camibarez's question made Simon flinch.
"J-just someone my father introduced me to. Why?"
"Your undead control got so much better!"
"She's right. It definitely did."
Dick, who'd been lying spread-eagled on the open ground, propped himself up.
"You're running three skeletons simultaneously now. Is it even possible to improve that fast in such a short time?"
Meilin leaned in too, apparently interested now.
"Who is this person, exactly? A professional necromancer? Affiliated with Kizen?"
Three pairs of eyes suddenly converged on him. Simon managed an awkward smile.
...What on earth am I supposed to tell them?