Rank 1, Simon Polentia
Two days passed, and the Kizen students who had finished the makeup promotion exam returned to Roc Island.
So I couldn't get discharged after all.
Simon was clicking his tongue and gazing out the window when, with a low rumble, the door slid open.
"Ah!"
There stood a girl with light violet hair, clutching a fistful of tears in her eyes. Simon smiled brightly and waved.
"Long time no see, Cami."
The girl, who had looked like she would burst into tears at the slightest touch, let her crocodile tears fall drip by drip. Then she smiled brighter than ever before.
"Simooooon!"
She ran over and buried her face in Simon's chest as he sat up on the hospital bed. A faint scent of lavender drifted up, and his hospital gown grew damp.
Simon gently patted her shoulder.
"YAAH! Simon!!"
"You're really okay?"
Right behind her, Meilin and Dick came staggering into the ward, faces bright red and panting for breath.
It was plain to see that all three of them had sprinted at full speed down the slope the moment they crossed the teleportation circle.
Simon smiled calmly so as not to cause them any needless worry.
"I'm fine. Completely fine."
Only then did a wave of visible relief wash over Meilin and Dick's faces.
From Simon's chest came a small, squirming, muffled voice, as if trying to say I'm so glad you're okay.
"Y-you had us worried sick, you know! I couldn't focus during the exams because of you!"
Meilin snapped, arms crossed, bristling.
"Hey, Simon! You have no idea how much of a frenzy the kids are in right now!"
Dick flailed his arms, face practically vibrating with excitement.
"Come on, spill it! Tell us the story of taking on the Blood Sky Cult!"
"Wh-whoa, calm down."
Simon recounted everything that had happened within the bounds of what he could share.
All three of them were left speechless at the tale of Silaje leading the Blood Sky Cult.
"I-I heard the story, but. Hearing it from your own mouth, Simon, it's even more of a shock."
Camibarez bowed her head deeply.
The fact that Silaje and Walter were one and the same person — and worse, that he was the mastermind and a Grand Bishop of the Blood Sky Cult — was a reversal straight out of a nightmare.
Dick leaned back against the windowsill and spoke.
"Anyway, that's why Nephthys is out there smashing the Blood Sky Cult to pieces right now. From what I hear, she's dead set on hunting down the mastermind — Chief Inquisitor Late — and killing him too? And with the war mood hanging over everything, Roc Island's been on edge."
"Thankfully, it doesn't look like there'll be a war with the Holy Federation. And the Chief Inquisitor wasn't the mastermind."
Meilin blinked.
"What's this? That sounded suspiciously like an authoritative statement."
"I talked it over with Nephthys."
The four of them chattered on and on about the whole incident. Then Simon suddenly realized something and looked at the three of them.
"Wait, but more importantly! How did your makeup promotion exams go?"
At that question, all three bowed their heads at once and fell silent. A sudden heaviness settled over the hospital room.
"D-don't tell me...."
Simon faltered, scanning their faces — and only belatedly noticed Dick's eyebrows twitching, and Meilin covering her mouth with her hand. As for Camibarez, one glance was enough to tell she was terrible at playing it cool, fidgeting away.
Simon couldn't hold back the laughter spilling out of him.
"Congratulations, all of you — you passed!"
WHOOO!
At last the three of them broke into wide grins and let out a triumphant cheer.
"Second years! We're finally Kizen second years, Simon!"
Camibarez, hopping up and down with joy, threw her arms around Meilin.
"Yes! Yes! Now we hold the same standing as professional necromancers!"
"Heh heh heh, you first-years next year had better brace yourselves! This senior's going to spoil you rotten!"
Dick rubbed his palms together with an ominous grin, and Meilin immediately smacked him down.
"Hey! You can't celebrate yet. Sure, you passed the promotion exam, but your overall grades are on such a knife's edge that it's not even confirmed for you!"
"Eh, it'll work out somehow."
"Honestly, the ones with guaranteed promotion are Simon and Meilin. I'm a little worried about my final exam and practical assessment scores too."
Simon smiled gently.
"It'll all work out, Cami."
At those words, Camibarez's eyes curved into a puppy-like smile.
"Yes, Simon!"
BANG!
Just as the mood had turned heartwarming, the ward door suddenly slammed open and an uninvited guest strode in.
"What the— how did he know you were here?"
Dick muttered, bewildered.
The boy who had beaten Chatel to claim first place in the makeup promotion exam.
Hector.
He paid no attention whatsoever to the other three and looked straight at Simon, lying in his hospital bed.
"Is the body in working order."
The three of them exchanged stunned looks. Hector Moore, asking after Simon's health?
Simon answered with a light nod in place of words.
"Recover quickly and honor our promise. I'll give you three days."
With that, Hector turned his back.
"...Honestly, now that I'm looking at you. Hey! You're going to do that in front of an injured man?"
Click.
Hector's steps stopped just as he was turning to close the door behind him. Meilin was growling at him.
"Simon is injured! And he got that way saving us! There's no reason he has to answer your selfish duel request...!"
"The choice."
Hector turned back around and looked at Simon.
"Belongs to the man himself."
"...You—!"
"I gave you three days because the second-year promotion ceremony is three days from now."
Hector's fist clenched.
"Let me make one thing clear. I don't have the patience to wait until the end of the break."
"Fine. A promise is a promise."
Simon smiled, unburdened.
"We'll duel after the promotion ceremony."
The corner of Hector's mouth lifted as well.
"That's exactly what I expected you to say."
Whoosh!
Hector swept out of the ward, his uniform flaring behind him. A moment of chilly silence hung in the air.
"You idiot! 'After the promotion ceremony,' my foot! You're going home for the holidays!"
Meilin shrieked at the top of her lungs.
"Th-that's right! Another fight the moment you're discharged...!"
Camibarez clasped her hands together and nodded along.
"Ahem. For my part, I respect it."
Dick, uncharacteristically, lowered his voice and put on a airs of wisdom.
"Every man has a fight he cannot run from...—"
When Meilin and Camibarez shot him withering glares, Dick hastily backpedaled.
"—might have! But this time is definitely not one of those! Haha! Recovery first and foremost, you know?"
Simon eased the mood back down.
"Thanks for worrying about me, everyone. And I really am fine. My body's recovering steadily, and besides, there's something I want to try out against Hector."
"Something you want to try out?"
Simon grinned and spread both palms open.
"Yup. I invented a new technique while I was hospitalized. Wanna see?"
"...While you were hospitalized?"
The three of them stared at Simon as if he had lost his mind.
One day before the second-year promotion ceremony, Simon was discharged from the hospital.
By then, the comprehensive first-year rankings had been released — the combined results of the first semester and the integrated second semester. It was the full first-year aggregate: the midterm and final exams, all the practical assessments, the duel evaluations, the mission evaluations, the dispatched evaluations, the BMATs, and the promotion exam all rolled into one.
"I did it!!"
Simon was spinning round and round in his dormitory chair, holding his report sheet high above his head.
First place, gleaming gold. And right beside it, the words Valedictorian!
He checked, and checked again, unable to believe his eyes.
He was so happy he could have shed a tear or two.
He had enrolled with no accelerated coursework, with nothing but his Core opened, and he had made it all the way here.
Just for today, surely he was allowed to be moved by his own achievement.
Though honestly, it was a razor-thin squeaker.
His midterm scores had dragged him down. He'd only managed to claim first overall thanks to Kizen's practice-heavy system, and to the fact that the wartime integrated second semester had diluted the weight of the first semester. In an ordinary two-semester year, Simon might well have been pushed out of the top ten — the gap to second and third place had been almost nothing.
Which means I absolutely can't let my guard down next year either.
Still, first was first. He felt wonderful. Grinning ear to ear, Simon checked the ranks below his.
With no room for argument, second place went to the half-giant Chatel.
He'd been edged out by Simon in the duel evaluations and by Hector in the promotion exam, but by keeping his practice, written, and overall scores in careful balance, he had clinched second.
And third place was a victory for humanity all its own.
Hector, who had entered through the regular admissions rather than Special Admission, had clawed his way to third through sheer, grueling effort. His scores were barely distinguishable from Simon's or Chatel's.
First, second, and third — the three boys were packed so tightly together in the same score band that ranking them against one another was almost meaningless.
Merida Hugh Ikel, Special Admission No. 4, had held her ranking steady all the way to a final fourth-place finish.
She was the younger sister of the famously legendary Kizen Student Council President, Phantasos Hugh Ikel.
She's terrifying.
Looking at her detailed scores only made it worse.
Despite botching the written midterms and finals worse than Simon had, her practical scores and assessment results were all top-of-the-top. She had stayed consistently inside the BMAT top ten, too. If her written scores had even been middle-of-the-pack, she probably could have overtaken Simon.
...Relaxed studying next year is officially off the table.
Chuckling bitterly under the crushing weight of expectations, Simon checked the next rank.
Fifth, Aseraz Mikel. Sixth, Merdiana Ann Sudden-death.
Students he had never even seen the faces of, whose names he was hearing for the first time.
And that was precisely what made Kizen so frightening.
Regular-admission students, riding on overwhelming growth rates, had breezily dispatched the Special Admission prodigies and broken into the upper echelons. This was a place where the Dark Alliance's finest talents gathered — there was no telling what monster's potential might erupt next and come charging into the top ranks. At Kizen, there were no permanent strong and no permanent weak.
Still, the pride of the Special Admission students held: Elisa of the Ghost Ship, Special Admission No. 7, claimed the seventh spot to match her number.
Meilin! Congratulations!
Meilin, another regular-admission student, had marched proudly into the Top 10.
It was a shame that at Kizen she was weak in practical combat and lacked crisis-management instincts, but she had shown an absolutely dominant grip on the written exams — second overall on the midterms, second overall on the finals. In an ordinary second semester, she might well have made a run at the top three.
For the record, first place on both the midterms and the finals had gone to the fifth-ranked Aseraz Mikel.
Ninth place went to a girl named Elisha — not a Special Admission student, but famous enough that even Simon had heard of her.
And tenth place belonged to Special Admission No. 5, the cursed-sword wielder Jule.
In Jule's case, there was nothing to be done. In raw combat power he was a strongman comparable to the trio of Simon, Chatel, and Hector — but choosing the cursed sword had cost him dearly in his other subjects. His tenth place had been earned on combat strength alone.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Special Admission students — No. 8 and Castellan of Snowfield Castle Raheim Northfold, No. 10 and gang member Malcolm Randolph — had been shoved out of the Top 10.
And then, and then....
Simon scanned down the list with anxious eyes.
"Ah!"
Rank 95 — Camibarez Ursula.
"Thank goodness, Cami!"
Camibarez, overflowing with talent but blessed with a gentle, un-necromancer-like heart, had risen to her second year with a respectable score.
She'd gone all-in on Hemomancy, leaving her other subject scores ordinary — but with the major system starting in second year, she could hope for far higher rankings to come.
Dick is the one I'm worried about.
Simon's gaze slid down, and down, and down the report sheet.
He should be around here....
He swept through the entire two-hundred-something block of the list. No Dick anywhere.
Little by little, anxiety began churning his stomach and cold sweat broke out on his skin.
Hey, Dick! Don't tell me....!
He couldn't even imagine school life without that cheerful idiot. Fretting, Simon scoured the three-hundred-something ranks, then flung his gaze all the way down.
"Please....!"
And there, incredibly:
Rank 400 — Dick Hayward.
PFFFHAHA!
Only then did Simon burst out laughing, loud and long.
Four hundredth out of the four hundred students promoted to second year. The kid was a menace, friend or not.
Only after that wave of relief did Simon slump back into his chair.
...The Blood Sky Cult saved Dick's hide.
Because of the cult incident, one of the benefits Kizen headquarters had offered its students was an expansion of the second-year enrollment cap. Second year had ordinarily admitted around 350 students; this time it was 400.
What an ironic turn of events. It really made you think no one could predict a single step of how the world would turn.
"Guess I'll check on the others too."
Simon read up the list from the bottom, checking where his other friends had landed.
Toto was 382nd. Then Lorraine, Serne, and Kajan — the strong types who couldn't care less about grades — drifted past in the middle of the pack.
Up top, familiar Class A aces like Jamie, Cindy, and Claudia made appearances. And his fellow Mutant Club member Fitzgerald — an astonishing 20th place.
"Haah."
Then, one last time, he looked again.
The very top of the list. One out of one thousand enrolled students.
Rank 1 — Simon Polentia
No matter how many times he looked at it, it made him happy.
Simon's gaze drifted out the window. Just imagining boasting about it to his father back home in Leshill made him feel like he might float away.
Father! This time you'll praise me, won't you?
The next day.
In the small hours of the promotion ceremony itself, the Underworld Whale and a fleet of assorted vessels were frantically ferrying crowds to Roc Island.
Parents and relatives of the students were arriving ahead of the upcoming ceremony. Every one of them wore a face lit up with joy at the news of their child's promotion to second year, arms full of bouquets and presents.
Step, step.
And amid it all, there was one spot where the women's gazes converged with remarkable intensity.
"Who is that?"
"...Good heavens."
The crowd murmured and parted to either side. A gentleman in glasses and a immaculately tailored suit was making his way along the dock.
"Ah!"
Just then, a lady who had been stealing glances at the man felt her heel slip on the dock boards. As her body pitched sideways and she teetered on the brink of tumbling into the sea—
"Are you quite alright, my lady?"
That very gentleman dashed over like lightning and caught her in his arms. With his face so close to hers, hers flushed scarlet.
"Th-th-thank you!"
The gentleman gave a light wink.
"Think nothing of it."
From every direction came the piercing squeals of middle-aged noblewomen.
The gentleman lightly brushed off his clothes and turned his gaze toward the dormitories.
This school hasn't changed one bit.
Behind his glasses, fidgeting with his fake mustache, he looked around with eyes misted over by sentiment — and then fixed his stare on the dormitories.
Soon, Simon. Soon I'll see you.