The Mission Period

Missions.

One of the core pillars that made Kizen's unusual system function.

Once the Student Protection Period ended, Kizen's students were granted a stretch of time known as the Mission Period.

It spanned roughly five days, straddling the weekend, and during that window students were free to take on all manner of commissions from outside parties.

Everything from simple chores and part-time work to monster extermination, bodyguard duty, the assassination of key figures — even proxy warfare. The variety was endless. Missions that working necromancers performed in the field were opened up to Kizen students as well.

Missions were graded for difficulty and success, of course, but students could also collect the official commission fee. For Kizen students perpetually short on coin after burning fortunes on materials, it was the fastest and most lucrative way to make money.

And as Hong Peng had announced the night before, Kizen had designated the coming five days — weekend included — as this term's Mission Period.

"Every student has a different strategy for the Mission Period," Dick said, laying out the information over lunch in the dining hall. "You have to take on at least one mission and clear it. Some people knock out something simple here on Roc Island and spend the rest of the time cramming to raise their grades. Others take the teleportation circle off the island, solve one big juicy case, and go for the payout and the mission score."

"Hmm." Simon took a sip of his drink and nodded. "What happens if you can't clear the mission within those five days?"

"You fail the commission, obviously. No money, no score." Dick shrugged and went on. "In special cases you can submit a written explanation and keep working on it, but that punches holes in your class schedule, so it ends up costing you either way."

"So there's real risk involved."

Dick nodded with an unusually serious face. "Which is why I'm going to grab something I can handle right here in Rochest, coast through it, and focus on expanding my business."

[We have no need to hesitate!]

Pier's alter ego, clinging to Simon's uniform, spoke up — his voice, of course, audible to Simon alone.

[We leave for the continent under the pretext of a mission! Gathering the scattered forces of the Legion from across the land and restoring its former glory is our first priority!]

Simon couldn't have agreed more.

If the ancient undead who had once served under his father were scattered somewhere across the continent, he had to claim them. Whatever anyone said, it was the greatest power-up currently within Simon's reach.

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'Are there undead even stronger than you, Pier?'

Pier's alter ego grinned.

[Kuh-huh! I am the Manager of the Legion! None may defy me — but judged on combat strength alone, some of the captains who once led troops beneath the Legion were true monsters.]

'Captains under the Legion?'

This was news to Simon.

[The Legion was divided into multiple undead companies! Sentient Ancient Undead commanded the forces beneath them! Rally every captain and the undead they lead, and the Legion will reclaim its former glory before you know it!]

New Ancient Undead, besides Pier!

Simon's eyes gleamed. This was something he absolutely had to do.

'But how do I find out where the captains are?'

[Kuh-huh! Do you think those mad things quietly keep to themselves? They're surely stirring up trouble all across the continent — and there's a good chance that trouble is listed in Kizen's missions!]

'If there's even the smallest clue, I'm taking it.'

"Simon."

He'd been absorbed in his conversation with Pier, and Dick was now looking at him oddly. "Why are you grinning to yourself all of a sudden?"

"Oh, uh? Ahaha! Nothing — a funny thought just popped into my head..."

Simon laughed it off quickly.

"Anyway, coasting through the Mission Period with easy missions is a problem too," Dick said, waving his fork around. "Your mission grades are on the line. Keep putting it off with the easy stuff, and one day you might be stuck taking something genuinely dangerous — like an actual assassination."

"So procrastinating isn't the smart play either."

"Exactly."

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Simon felt his resolve harden all the more.

The next morning.

Mission boards had been installed throughout Kizen's major facilities, including the men's and women's dormitories, and students swarmed around them in a buzzing crowd.

"Anyone up for the Roc Island werewolf hunt? Three-person party!"

"A blue request form for Langestin! That's free money right there."

"Langestin pays peanuts. If I'm going out, I'm going somewhere farther."

Listening to the chatter around him, Simon checked the request forms pinned to the board himself. Each form was a different color.

Naturally, the more dangerous the mission, the higher the commission fee and the mission score. And even among blue request forms, the payouts varied wildly depending on the work involved.

As he watched, the white request forms were disappearing the fastest. First-years were still adjusting to life at Kizen and tended to prioritize school over missions; a fear of biting off too much on their very first mission was also at play.

Simon's thinking, of course, was different.

'There's no way Father's undead are still on Roc Island.'

He skipped straight past the white forms and started scanning the board where the blue ones were pinned.

Blue requests were popular for their shorter distances and lighter psychological burden — the choice of students who wanted a reasonably safe mission while still chasing a profit.

'Pier.'

[Mm, I'm watching.]

Pier's alter ego, stuck to Simon's uniform, was rolling its eyes furiously.

[Nothing worth noting here.]

'Then I'll move on to the next one.'

Simon took a step over to the board covered in red request forms. From here on, the crowd of onlookers thinned out dramatically.

As he leaned in to read the small print, he accidentally bumped shoulders with someone standing beside him.

"Oh, sor—"

A huge male student.

Hector. Of all people.

The moment Simon registered who it was, he quickly put distance between them. He knew perfectly well that Hector couldn't stand him.

"Simon Polentia."

Hector spoke up.

"Going to the Neutral Zone too, are you?"

"...Just looking."

Hector let out a short snort of laughter. "The Neutral Zone is lawless territory where Kizen's influence doesn't reach. If something happens to you mid-mission — however you die — Kizen will have no way of ever knowing." The corners of his mouth curled up deep. "I sincerely hope we run into each other out there."

Hector tore a single red request form off the board and strode away.

"Hector."

"?"

As Hector turned around, Simon smiled.

"Stay safe out there."

"...!!"

In an instant, Hector's face twisted into something savage. Thick veins stood out along the back of his neck, and his fists clenched tight.

Square in the shoulders, with a perfectly calm expression, Simon met his gaze.

"..."

"..."

A brief standoff crackled between them.

In the end, Hector clicked his tongue, turned his back, and stomped up the stairs. Simon turned back to the board and resumed his study of the red request forms.

[Heh-heh-heh! What is wrong with that little brat?]

'I have no idea.'

Try as he might, Simon couldn't figure out why Hector disliked him so much. Was it because of the humiliation he'd dealt him in the first Summoning class? But then he'd taken an equal humiliation in Curse Magic class — didn't that make them even? The brawl in the bathhouse? That one had been defused by Kajan's interruption before it ever became a real fight.

No matter how he turned it over, no reason came to mind. Simon wiped Hector cleanly from his thoughts and refocused on the red request forms.

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'Pier, what about this one? A village raided by a swarm of infected zombies.'

[Infection is far too common a case.]

'Then this? Damage to buildings and crops from a sudden attack by a swarm of red serpents.'

[Interesting, but none of the captains possess such an ability.]

Just as Simon and Pier were combing through the request forms with meticulous care —

'Why is this one here?'

In the corner of the densely packed cluster of forms, one particular request stood out from the rest.

And no wonder — it was a blue request form pinned to the red request board.

'A mistake?'

The moment Simon stepped closer to read it, someone yanked the form clean off the board.

"Ah, this one's still up? Please disregard it."

It was one of the henchmen managing the mission boards. Simon asked quickly, "What kind of mission is that one?"

"Oh, this request has been up for months now... A necromancer subcontracted by Kizen took it on and then vanished without a trace."

Simon's eyes widened. Not even a student — a full necromancer had been taken down by it?

"Could I take a look at it, just once?"

"Excuse me? B-but this isn't the sort of mission suited to students..."

"I'm asking you, please."

The manager handed the form over with an uneasy look. Simon and Pier scanned it at once.

Simon gasped at the photograph attached to the request form. A human body, shriveled up like a mummy.

[Found her!]

Pier grinned, his mouth splitting wide.

[This trace is hers! Erzsébet!]

'Who's that?'

[The Ancient Undead who commands the spider company. When Erzsébet or her spiders drain a person's bodily fluids, they shrivel up exactly like this. I'm certain of it!]

Simon tucked the request form carefully inside his coat.

Perhaps because of the high grade, the reward was a full fifty gold.

For Simon — flat broke after splurging far too much on his skeleton set recently — this was an opportunity he absolutely could not let slip by.

"...Student. Are you truly set on that one?"

"Yes."

"I doubt the supervising professor will approve it, you know."

Simon smiled. "Then I'll just have to persuade her."

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While white request forms could be taken freely by anyone, anything from a red request form upward — or any mission rated B grade or higher — required a consultation with the supervising professor.

Simon took a light, steadying breath and knocked on the door of Professor Jane's office.

"Professor Jane, it's Simon Polentia."

"Come in."

Jane's voice carried through the door. Simon stepped carefully inside.

Bookshelves packed so tightly not a sliver of wall showed met his eye, and in every corner stood boxes stacked with towering piles of documents. All in all it was a neatly organized room — the single disordered spot being the paperwork strewn haphazardly across her desk. Even Simon could tell that this was everything she had to process today.

"Here about a mission, are you?"

Jane, sorting through her documents, wore her hair up today and had glasses perched on her nose. Even as she asked the question, her eyes stayed locked on the papers, and the quill in her hand moved at a furious pace.

"Yes, Professor!"

"Let's see it, then."

Mindful of not disturbing her, Simon approached with quiet steps and placed the request form gingerly on the corner of her desk.

Jane moved only her eyes, giving the form a single sweep, then went back to writing her documents.

'D-did she really check it that fast?'

As Simon stood there fidgeting, she spoke. "Go find a different request. This is no job for a freshman."

So she had read it properly after all.

Simon swallowed hard and said, "I'm confident, Professor. I want to take this request — and I want to solve it."

Her quill stopped.

Through the glint of her glasses, Jane's eyes fixed on him, sharp as blades.

Somehow the air had grown heavy with tension, and Simon stiffened his spine.

"Confident, you say?"