A Duel Without Excuses
‘Did I eat too much last night?’
Richard was walking along, rubbing his belly. He'd just come back from the restroom. Last night, Anna had gone on a rare rampage in the kitchen, and his stomach was still dealing with the aftermath. He was heading toward the Grand Auditorium, where Simon was waiting, when—
Shwaek!
A flash of Jet-Black streaked at him out of thin air. Richard whipped his head aside to dodge it, but the attack wasn't aimed at him. It tore clean through the illusion magic spread out in front of him and vanished.
"I kept thinking something felt off."
Clap.
Someone had appeared behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I thought I'd seen that face somewhere before."
Richard rolled only his eyes to look back. A massive frame, a body hardened to the extreme, burn scars covering the upper half—and above all, a Jet-Black that radiated menace.
One glance told him this was no ordinary necromancer.
"......What exactly do you think you're doing, ambushing me like this?"
"That's my question to ask."
The man's eyes flashed.
"I'm curious why someone would walk into Kizen's promotion ceremony wearing a Perception Obstruction curse, of all things."
The curse didn't so much change a face as prevent others from recognizing it. It was the dark magic used by those who didn't want to be identified by someone who knew them.
"Have we met somewhere?"
The veins in the man's neck grew redder by the second.
"We have, haven't we?"
Rip.
The man peeled the beard right off Richard's chin and held it up before his eyes.
"A fake beard too, I see."
Richard quietly began drawing Jet-Black into his fist, ready to move if it came to that.
"Enough of this."
"Enough? You call sneaking onto Roc Island with your identity hidden 'enough'? Given Kizen's recent external security issues, I hardly think my behavior is the strange part. Now—time to take off those glasses."
The man's hand shot out.
Richard knocked the arm aside and was about to drive a fist into the man's ribs when—
WAAAAAAAH!
An uproarious roar erupted from the direction of the Grand Auditorium. At the appearance of the students, both men froze mid-motion.
"A duel! It's a duel!"
"They say Hector Moore and Simon Polentia are going at it!"
"Really? Where?"
The hand reaching for Richard's glasses dropped. The man's face flushed crimson, the veins across it bulging.
"HECTOOOOOOOR!!"
A thunderclap of a bellow. Richard frowned slightly and shielded his ears with a sound-dampening spell—the surrounding pillars and walls were already cracking, crack! crack!
"How much more are you going to smear mud on the face of your family and your father!!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The man took off toward the students at terrifying speed.
Richard let out a small sigh of relief and pressed the fallen fake beard back onto his face.
‘The Moore family, was it.’
One of the most dangerous households in existence—the kind that could never, under any circumstances, learn that he was the Legion Commander of Betrayal.
And he'd heard something else, too. The name Simon.
‘What on earth are you up to this time, Simon?’
At that same moment, Simon arrived at the meeting spot with his group.
A wide-open stretch of coastline. A cool sea breeze rolled in, and the breaking waves lent the air a quiet solemnity.
Against the backdrop of that very sea, one hulking man stood with his back turned.
"I've been waiting, Simon Polentia."
Hector Moore. He turned around and stared Simon dead in the eye.
Around him, his faction members were bustling about.
"Hahk! Hahk! The barrier's set up nice and clean, Hector!"
"No matter how loud it gets here, they won't hear it all the way at the auditorium."
"Good work."
Simon set down the bouquet Richard had given him on a rock and swung his arms in big circles, loosening up his stiff joints.
"Simon, are you really going to fight?"
Camibarez approached him with a worried face.
"Yep. A promise is a promise."
"I can't take this, seriously! You get out of the hospital and immediately it's a fight?!"
Meilin shook her head in exasperation. Behind her were Dick's brothers—Bill and Al—their eyes sparkling with excitement.
"We actually get to watch the famous Kizen Duel Evaluation!"
"And it's a match between the rank 1 and rank 3!"
"Didn't I say coming to Roc Island was absolutely the right call?"
Outsiders had tagged along to a duel between Kizen students. And not just any outsiders—Dick's brothers, whose mouths were about as tight as a torn net. Meilin felt a headache coming on.
‘It's not like I could stop this anyway—and even if I tried, neither Simon nor Hector would listen.’
In the end, she walked over to the Hayward brothers.
"Dick's brothers. You all know the rules, right? First priority is security. Second priority is also security. Not a single peep in front of the grown-ups, please."
Then she added, "I'm counting on you," and even gave a slight bow.
A proud noble bowing her head to commoners was a rare sight indeed. The Hayward brothers, grasping the gravity of the situation, simultaneously mimed zipping their lips shut. All three of them—the movements and gestures down to the smallest detail—perfectly identical.
"Meilin, telling them to watch their mouths is pointless."
Dick, arms crossed, snickered. Meilin shot him a scathing glare.
"And why are you so relaxed? We're at an off-campus event right now. Do you want to get disciplined and have your second-year promotion revoked before it clicks?"
"No, that's not what I meant."
Dick pointed a finger.
Two grown men had already made their way in.
"KWAHAHAHAHA! A duel! A duel! There's no way in hell I'd miss a spectacle like this!!"
So spoke Dietrich, Camibarez's father and the Vampire Lord.
"I envy the youth and romance of those children. My own school days were a flat, colorless gray next to theirs."
Beside him stood Meilin's father, Daniela, elder of the Ivory Tower's moderate faction.
"Dad!"
"Dad!!"
Camibarez and Meilin shrieked in horror.
Dietrich flashed a thumbs-up and bared his fangs; Daniela gave a light wave of his hand. The two fathers were already getting along famously.
"See? Pointless."
Dick put a hand behind his head.
"We said we'd sneak in without the adults knowing, sure. But there's no escaping those monsters' eyes."
"......Haaaah."
Meilin pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Well, they seem to be treating it as a fun event, so I guess we just watch and—"
"HECTOOOOOOOR!!!"
With that resounding roar, a man punched a hole straight through the barrier and entered. The faction student who'd been working so hard on it plopped down on the spot, thoroughly startled.
"What do you think you're doing right now! How much more mud do you intend to smear on your father's face before you're satisfied!"
This man was Hector's father and head of the Moore family—Darkos Moore.
"Father."
Smack!
Darkos sprinted over and, without a word of warning, delivered a heavy blow straight to Hector's face.
Everyone nearby gasped, mouths agape—but Hector, as if used to it, simply picked himself up off the ground.
"I don't want to hear it, you brat! Your mother's been preparing a homecoming ceremony at the estate—cancel the whole thing! You'll be starting extreme disciplinary training the moment we—"
At that moment, Hector quietly said something to his father.
"......"
Darkos Moore crossed his arms.
"If that's how it is, fine."
Then he turned on his heel and strode away without looking back.
"H-Hector?"
The faction students, who'd been watching nervously, swarmed over. One of the girls pulled out a tissue and dabbed at the blood trickling from his nose.
"What did you tell him?"
"That as a man of the Moore family, the most important bout of my life was at hand."
Hector's gaze shifted. There ahead of him stood Simon, looking somewhat bewildered.
"That part's a secret from Simon Polentia."
"Yeah, yeah~"
The faction students snickered.
"Simon."
This time it was Richard, appearing at Simon's side. Simon hastily lowered his voice.
"Ah—Father?"
"A duel right before vacation. Reckless as ever."
"......Haha, sorry for not telling you sooner."
"It's fine."
Richard gave Simon's shoulder a light pat.
"Now I understand why Nephthys insisted we come to Roc Island of all places."
"......Sorry?"
"Looking forward to a fine duel."
With only those words, Richard walked off and joined the gathering of fathers.
Somewhere along the way, Hector's father, Darkos Moore, had struck up a conversation with Dietrich. The moment he spotted Richard, his eyes turned wary.
"Vampire Lord. So just who exactly is that suspicious man?"
At Darkos's question, Dietrich shrugged.
"They say he's Simon Polentia's uncle."
"Kizen's top student's......"
Darkos Moore looked entirely unconvinced. Richard, for his part, couldn't find any reason to correct him, so he simply stood beside Daniela with his arms crossed.
"Right, right! Let's get our first-years' final Duel Evaluation started!"
Dick stepped forward holding an amplifying crystal.
"I'm Dick Hayward, your referee for today! Not to brag, but I'm the only one here who's memorized the Duel Evaluation rulebook cover to cover! I promise this will proceed exactly like an official evaluation! And beside me is our co-referee, Miss Meao of Hector's faction. A word?"
Meao, whose expression plainly asked why she'd even been called over, replied with cool indifference.
"Die."
"You heard her. Death to the loser. Let's begin!"
Simon and Hector changed into barrier suits for the Duel Evaluation—gear Hector had pulled strings with his connections to obtain.
Before long, the two stood facing each other. Dick crossed his arms and spoke.
"Contestants, shake hands."
Hector's face twisted as he glared at Dick. Dick gave an exaggerated 'Tsk tsk!' and put on a stern look.
"What's with the scowl? You're the one who demanded we do it exactly like the official evaluation, aren't you? If you just want to do whatever you feel like, go ahead and forfeit."
"......Tch."
Hector reluctantly grabbed Simon's hand, shook it halfheartedly, and let go. Simon smiled faintly.
"What are you so mad about."
Hector said it through gritted teeth, seething inside.
"Nothing at all."
Simon tossed it back lightly, turned, and walked away. Hector also turned, muttering "I'll kill you" under his breath over and over.
Soon the two boys stood at a distance from each other, readying themselves for battle. Dick waved his arm.
"Now! You need to shut down all magic circles, including the Perpetual Magic Circle. You know the rules—anyone caught prepping early is disqualified!"
"Skip the small print and start it already!"
"Yes sir, yes sir! Right then! The Duel Evaluation between Class A's Simon Polentia and Class A's Hector begins now!"
Dick thrust his arm up. Co-referee Meao followed suit.
"Begin!"
"Die."
The moment their arms dropped and the starting signal rang out—
As if they'd never been joking around at all, both boys' eyes gleamed with terrifying focus.
The Hayward brothers watching from the sidelines sucked in sharp breaths at the sudden shift in atmosphere.
Simon instantly stacked a Chaos magic circle at his waist, while Hector prepared a Dragon-Form magic circle behind his back. The time each spent laying the foundations of their circles came to less than a minute.
Wham!
The first to close the distance was Simon. Kicking off a platform of Jet-Black, he surged forward and hurled a vicious flying kick.
BOOM!
Shards of Jet-Black scattered from the point of impact like swirling petals.
Hector blocked it with his shoulder and seized Simon by the ankle, intending to slam him straight into the ground—but.
Simon's Original —
⟨ Crawling Wind ⟩
Simon snapped his fingers in a pistol pose, and a shockwave erupted against Hector's forehead. Hector's grip slackened for an instant, and Simon dropped back to the ground.
"Tch!"
Then came the grapple. Two boys yielding not a single inch began raining down blows with their defense thrown to the wind.
Fists and legs flew in a frenzy, black sparks scattering in every direction.
It was a first-rate Magic Combat duel, through and through.
"WHOOOAA!!"
The Hayward brothers flushed red with excitement.
"So this is what a clash between necromancers looks like!"
"This is insane!"
The two boys' limbs tangled and collided again and again. Hector, having knocked Simon's fist aside with his elbow, roared:
"What is this, Simon Polentia?!"
"?"
His elbow swung open, and a ferocious straight punch came hurtling out. Simon tilted his head lightly to evade it.
"Why are you fighting me in honest hand-to-hand?! Show me that 'Golden Lich' you used on that giant too!"
"Didn't you hear?"
Even as he dodged, Simon spun full around and drove in a follow-up roundhouse kick that cracked solidly against Hector's arm with a snap!
"Herseba got wrecked in the fight against the Blood Sky Cult."
That was the official story.
Herseba hadn't actually been wrecked—she'd become a Legion-type undead and could no longer be used at Kizen. But knowing the question of "why isn't he using Herseba?" was bound to come up eventually, Simon had told Nephthys and the Kizen headquarters staff the same thing.
"Damn you!!"
CRACK!
At Hector's brutally thrown punch, Simon's raised guard skidded backward across the ground. Veins bulged along the back of Hector's neck.
"I told you I wanted to fight you at FULL strength!!"
Their first battle.
It had come in the latter half of the ocean-themed BMAT, against a Simon who was utterly exhausted. And even then, the fight had ended without a winner thanks to Chatel's intrusion.
Their second battle.
In the siege-warfare BMAT, Simon had fought Hector only after battling Jules, Special Admission No. 5. And even then, other students had crashed in and turned it into a group free-for-all.
And now. The third battle.
Simon had been out of the hospital for barely a day, and Herseba—his most powerful weapon—was gone.
"I refuse!! I refuse to make excuses to myself!"
Fire ignited in Hector's pupils.
"After I break you, I don't want a single 'if' attached to it!"
If only Simon had been at full stamina.
If only Simon hadn't fought Jules right before their match.
If only Simon had still had Herseba.
"Why?!"
Hector's momentum exploded.
Wrapping both arms in Jet-Black, he swung like a monster, and Simon began to be driven back.
"Why is it always like this with you! Do you carve yourself an escape hatch in case you lose?!"
Smack!
At that moment Simon, who had driven deep into Hector's center, smashed an uppercut into his jaw.
"You're far too full of yourself."
"!"
Hector staggered back. Simon fixed him with a cold, sunken gaze.
"My stamina is at its peak. I've brought a weapon to replace Herseba, too. Everything you just said is an insult to my preparation."
"......"
"And above all—since when was your victory a given?"
Jet-Black began to spill and surge across Simon's body.
"Losing to me when I'm not even at full strength—isn't there a single part of you that says that's the one outcome you can't allow?"
For a long moment, Hector said nothing.
Then he threw his head back and burst out laughing.
"You're absolutely right, Simon Polentia!"
Jet-Black began pouring across Hector's entire body as well.
"This is the end of our first year! I'm going to pour everything I have into breaking you!!"