The Eve of Promotion
The day before the promotion ceremony.
The 247 students whose dismissal had been finalized shed their Kizen uniforms and left Roc Island.
When Simon and the surviving Class A students gathered in the lecture hall for their final lesson, the empty seats seemed unnaturally vast.
And so, amid that heavy, unsettled atmosphere, Professor Jane's last 'Basic Dark Magic' class began.
"Thank you all for following my instruction this past year. It feels strange now, calling out 'First-Year Class A' for the last time."
Simon had never once heard Jane's voice tremble before. Not like this.
"I am proud of every one of you. Class A."
At that single sentence, a dozen emotions collided at once, and in an instant the classroom dissolved into a sea of tears.
Camibarez sobbed openly. Meilin turned her head away and wiped at her eyes. Even Rick, who had been hunting for the perfect comedic timing, didn't dare break the moment this time; he simply kept his mouth shut.
The tears spread fast, and the TAs standing at the back of the room soon had reddened rims around their eyes as well.
When class ended, the students exchanged lingering hugs and farewells with the assistants.
"Miss TA! Thank you so much for everything this year!"
"Congratulations on making second year, Jamie."
Whatever came next, the students who had survived Kizen had to keep moving forward.
And that day had finally arrived.
The promotion ceremony for four hundred first-years was scheduled in the Great Auditorium.
Parents and relatives were streaming onto Roc Island bearing bouquets, and the students themselves buzzed with excitement at the thought of seeing their families after so long.
Since today marked the last day of his first year at Kizen, Simon packed his things early and set out from the dormitory to visit the professors he hadn't yet managed to thank.
Aaron of Summoning. Hong Peng of Magic Combat. Byeolya of Toxicology. Eric of Jet-Black Mechanics. Umbra of Spirit Studies.
Unfortunately, Bahil of Curse Magic was nowhere to be found. The only soul in Bahil's laboratory was his Head TA, Chehekl.
According to her, Bahil had vanished after leaving Simon's hospital room, cutting off all contact entirely.
"He's someone you'll be seeing again once the new term starts anyway," Chehekl said flatly. "Don't trouble yourself over it."
And the last stop of his morning was Professor Farahan — instructor of Divine Defense, and Simon's personal teacher in the ways of the priest.
Farahan declared that the Kizen break was the finest season for training one's divinity, and sent Simon off with a generous stack of holy-related assignments.
Simon also gathered up the two divine beasts from Farahan's cottage — Hayang and Geumang — and tucked them away in the sacred subspace where Akalion resided before returning. He felt guilty leaving them in Farahan's care for the whole holiday, and more than that, a small hope flickered in him: if Anna, his mother and a former Saintess, laid eyes on them, perhaps she might glimpse some clue to his own awakening.
"Hup!"
All that running around since dawn had left his legs aching. Simon stretched his arms toward the sky and looked down from the hillside.
Below, students and parents swarmed around the Great Auditorium in a lively, chattering throng.
"Well then, guess I'll head down too!"
The ceremony hadn't begun yet, but the heat radiating from students and parents alike was already sweltering.
If admission to Kizen was a blessing upon the family, promotion to second year was a glory upon the entire house.
Fathers and sons clutched each other, weeping. Girls hugged bouquets to their chests and beamed as if they owned the world. Everywhere one looked, happiness and laughter ran thick through the crowd.
And in the middle of it all, one girl with sky-blue hair was craning her neck this way and that, searching frantically.
Meilin, of course.
"He said in front of the fountain! Where the heck did he wander off to?"
After a solid half hour of diligent scanning, Meilin finally spotted a man with the same short sky-blue hair as her own, and shouted.
"Dad! Over here!"
She waved her arm. The man, picking his way through the crowd, caught sight of her and smiled.
"There you are, Meilin."
Daniela Villenne — a senior figure among the moderates of the Ivory Tower, and Meilin's father.
Unlike the families around them, the two of them neither embraced nor wept nor cooed anything embarrassing. They simply faced each other and exchanged quiet, composed smiles.
"Congratulations on your promotion to second year."
Daniela handed her a bouquet of blue roses — the very color of her hair. Meilin hugged it to her chest, breathed in the fragrant scent, and smiled bashfully.
"Mm. Thanks, Dad!"
"So I heard the news. You placed in the Top 10?"
Meilin flashed a V-sign and grinned.
"Told you I could do it if I put my mind to it!"
"Indeed. At last you're fit to look the Tower Master in the eye."
Daniela heaved a deep sigh and pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Running away from the Ivory Tower, enrolling in Kizen on a whim, giving us no end of heartache. Do you have any idea how many times I had to bow my head to the elders?"
"Ugh, seriously!"
Meilin's face went red.
"I-I worked hard and hit eighth place, didn't I?! It's a happy day — no more nagging!"
But Daniela's nagging showed no sign of stopping. He brushed his fingertip along the sky-blue hair Meilin had nurtured so carefully.
"You've grown it longer, I see. Isn't this too long for a student? Fiddling with your hair all the time will chip away at your focus, you know."
"Leave my hair alone! Why are you picking on my hair all of a sudden?!"
Meilin flared up like a spark on tinder and slapped his hand away.
"First thing when we return to the Ivory Tower, I'm calling a hairdresser."
Daniela sighed again and glanced around.
"More to the point — where might Lady Serne be?"
"......"
At that question, Meilin's lips pushed out into a full-blown pout.
"......Why do you care about her?"
Daniela chided her in a deliberately stern tone.
"Didn't I tell you to call her Lady Serne?"
"N-no way! Do I look insane?!"
Meilin nearly jumped out of her skin.
"A-and anyway, aren't you here to congratulate me today? Why'd you have to bring up that rude little brat and ruin the mood?"
"I came as a representative of the Ivory Tower. Lady Serne's promotion to second year deserves our congratulations as well."
Daniela revealed the bouquet of white roses he'd been carrying behind his back.
Meilin blew a loud, dismissive raspberry.
"......He could just come deliver them himself, you know. The Tower Master."
"The Tower Master considers Kizen to be the very heart of enemy territory."
As he said it, Daniela glanced at his wristwatch.
"Oh dear, the meal will be starting soon. Where are the restrooms?"
"......Just go into any building. The Poison Studies Hall is closest from here. Straight ahead, on the right."
His business was evidently urgent; Daniela made straight for the restrooms.
Which left Meilin holding both the blue rose bouquet and the white rose bouquet that was meant for Serne.
She let out a sullen sigh.
"......Dummy dad."
Muttering to herself, Meilin stared down at her feet. She even idly kicked the gravel around the fountain, though there was no real reason to.
I worked so hard.
I started from the absolute bottom, and I still made the Top 10.
'Well done.' 'I'm proud of you.' Was one lousy sentence really that much to ask for?
The hurt feelings came rushing in, wave after wave.
"Pardon me, my lady. May I have a moment?"
A man had approached her.
"Oh, um, sure."
Meilin turned her head to look at him.
"......!"
A walking statue stood before her. The utterly mismatched glasses and mustache he wore did nothing to dim this man's radiance.
"I'm looking for a place called the Great Auditorium. Which way should I go?"
"Ah."
Meilin's face flushed scarlet.
This man is devastatingly attractive. It was as though he radiated pheromones from every pore.
The very model of a handsome middle-aged man. If anything, the seasoned maturity that came with his years only distilled his gentlemanly charm further. Even age itself was a weapon in this man's hands.
Meilin stammered.
"Th-that big building over there......!"
Then, without warning, the man — who had been gazing steadily at her — took her left hand and lifted it. Caught completely off guard, Meilin let out a shrill shriek.
"Wh-what are you doing?!"
"......Here."
The man raised her delicate wrist and indicated it with a glance. Only then did she notice it herself.
She was bleeding.
"It seems a rose thorn got you."
The man drew a handkerchief from his pocket. Even that simple motion carried an unmistakable air of refinement.
He conjured elementary magic, stopped the bleeding in an instant, then carefully bound Meilin's wrist with the handkerchief.
"A rose, nourished on the morning dew, bewitches with its fragrance and flaunts its splendid beauty — but it carries thorns, you see."
The man murmured to the dazed Meilin, as if sharing a secret.
"Just like a lady."
Meilin's eyes went wide as saucers. That cringe-worthy line — and yet, somehow, in that moment it sounded positively dignified.
Having tied the handkerchief around her wrist, the man took a single step back and smiled.
It didn't hurt anymore.
"Tha—!"
Say thank you, and that'll be the end of it.
And yet something in her balked at letting it end there.
"If — if it has thorns, will everyone be scared of it?"
The instant the words left her mouth, Meilin regretted it like she'd never regretted anything in her life.
What am I even SAYING?! I've lost my mind!
Somebody smash my head into a wall and knock me out! I want to crawl into a mouse hole and die!
While Meilin screamed internally and thrashed in her own private torment—
"To fear no sharp thorn — to be willing to be pricked and bleed for it. That,"
the man said, smiling earnestly,
"is the charm of the rose."
Meilin's face went up in flames. The man threw her one last dashing gesture and strode off toward the Great Auditorium.
What a striking impression. Meilin flopped down onto the edge of the fountain.
'......B-but why does he feel so weirdly familiar? Like I've seen someone just like him somewhere...?'
The promotion ceremony began.
All the students stood at the front, with the parents seated behind them.
Vice Principal Jane delivered an electrifying address, followed by the Kizen elders and their interminable, yawn-inducing speeches.
"You are now second-years of Kizen. A second-year of Kizen holds authority equal to that of a professional necromancer and may assume the role of commander. Do not sully the honor and history your seniors have built upon the name of Kizen......"
It went on forever.
"Hey, Simon."
Rick snickered and elbowed him.
"Did your folks come too?"
"......No."
There was no way they could have.
His father Richard, branded a traitor, couldn't set foot outside Leshill — let alone onto Roc Island. And Anna, a priest, went without saying.
Rick's expression turned awkward.
"Uh, um. Did I ask something I shouldn't have?"
"It's fine. I'll be heading home to see them soon anyway."
Glancing back, Simon could see students waving their arms furiously toward the parents' section, each of them clutching a bouquet or some such.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't envious — but what couldn't be helped couldn't be helped.
"What about you, then?"
At Simon's question, Rick shrugged.
"A dad who only dotes on the firstborn isn't going to show up for his third son's promotion ceremony."
For the record, Rick was the third of eight sons.
"Mom divorced Dad and lives in another kingdom now. But my second-oldest brother and my third and fourth little brothers came to visit. I'll introduce you later."
"Yeah?"
Simon's face brightened.
Rick's siblings! He couldn't wait to meet them.
"Hey, by the way — did you see Meilin's dad? He's literally just Meilin with shorter hair!"
WHACK!
Rick went down with a strangled yelp. Behind them, Meilin was huffing and puffing, her face crimson.
"You were just trash-talking me!"
"What, the second your name comes up it's trash talk? That's why you should watch your behavior in the first pla— OW! Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! Let go of my hair first!"
Simon chuckled and looked around. Camibarez was watching the scuffle with an amused grin.
"What about you, Cami? Did your dad come?"
"I honestly don't know."
She answered, fidgeting with her fingers.
"There are so many people...... so I kind of hope he didn't......"
"......Ahaha."
Camibarez's father was the current Vampire Lord himself — Dietrich von Ursula.
Utterly unreasonable, a public menace, and a catastrophically severe case of daughter-doting — it was no wonder Camibarez was embarrassed by him.
Simon had experienced it firsthand.
Just before the second semester began, Dietrich had been loitering with her in Langestin when he'd abruptly attacked Simon, bellowing something about proving your worth.
"That concludes the address."
Just then, the elder's speech mercifully ended. The students who'd been nodding off delivered the loudest applause of their lives.
"Thank you for your words, Elder. Now, for the next portion."
Jane took the podium and spoke.
"First among the second-years — Simon Polentia. Please come up to the podium."