The Department Selection Ceremony
As far as anyone was concerned, the head professorship of the Curse department had already been decided.
One of Kizen's proudest star professors. Overwhelming talent that had made him an active member of the Crow at a young age.
Professional lectures, a teaching style that drew soaring engagement, gentlemanly manners and a genuine warmth toward his students. And the professor students most wanted to emulate in all of Kizen.
Bahil Amagar.
And yet.
"There is one announcement concerning the Curse department."
At Byeolya's ominous words, a ripple of unease ran through the hall.
"...Hm. Now, how do I explain this one."
As Byeolya scratched her head, a staff member from Kizen headquarters—not a broadcast henchman—came rushing up the stage and whispered something into her ear.
She nodded along, then spoke.
"Yeah, right. As you've all guessed, the Curse department will be under Professor Bahil. Except he didn't attend this semester's opening ceremony."
The students murmured among themselves, and Rick narrowed his eyes.
"No reason given, huh. Did he just skip an event, or what?"
Meilin looked at him as if he were hopeless.
"What, you think he up and quit Kizen? Professor Bahil?"
"I suppose something personal came up."
"You think? Simon, anything ringing a bell for you?"
"......"
Simon forced a smile and shook his head.
"No idea."
"Really?"
While the three of them drifted onto other topics, Simon quietly pressed a hand to his forehead.
'It can't be...'
On the last day of the first year, Simon had paid a courtesy visit to each of his subject professors to say his farewells.
But Bahil of Curse Magic was the one he couldn't meet. Only Chehekl, the Head TA, had been left in his office.
Simon remembered the conversation they'd had then.
"Professor Bahil has been... strange, ever since he visited your sickroom, Simon. Then he cut off all contact and just vanished."
"V-vanished?"
"Could you tell me what you and the professor talked about in there?"
Simon had hesitated for a moment at that.
Should he tell her everything? The secret of Compellonia, even Bahil's ambition to lay a curse upon the world itself. But he still didn't know who Chehekl really was.
"I can guess what he said to you."
Before Simon could answer, Chehekl had moved first.
"The direct disciple offer, and telling you to come to the Curse department. Right?"
It was the truth, so Simon simply nodded. Chehekl heaved a long, weary sigh.
"Don't let it get to you too much. He'll be back when the new semester starts, that much is certain."
Simon had taken those words to heart and returned to Leshill.
And yet.
'He still hasn't come back to Kizen?'
Behind the podium sat the professors of every department, but in the Curse department's seat, Chehekl sat in Bahil's place. The troubled look on her face filled Simon with an anxiety he couldn't suppress.
Tomorrow—or even today, if his schedule opened up—he decided he would go find her.
"Right then, last but certainly not least—the most popular department of all, Jet-Black Mechanics. I know you've all been waiting for this!"
YEAAAAAH!
Countless students raised their voices. Meilin's hands trembled as she whispered under her breath.
"Professor Eric Aura, please...!"
"I hear Professor Tyler over in the back rows is no pushover either. He's popular too."
The theory scholar Eric versus the practical master Tyler. The loser of this contest would pay a heavy toll in his career as a professor.
So who would head the second-year Jet-Black Mechanics department?
"Hm!"
At that moment, Byeolya checked the name on her documents and let out a knowing smile.
"Alright, here it comes, you rascals! The head professor of second-year Jet-Black Mechanics is Professor Eric Aura—"
WAAAAAAAH!
The front-row students, Meilin at their head, screamed themselves hoarse.
"—w.ou.ld. h.a.v.e. been!"
As Byeolya tacked on the ending, silence crashed down over the hall once more.
"Four days before the semester began, Professor Eric Aura declared his sudden retirement."
Buzz buzz buzz!
The entire auditorium plunged into chaos in an instant. Even the third-years in the back—many of whom had taken Eric's classes—were no less stunned.
"Nothing happened to him, no accidents or anything strange—he announced that he'd rather devote himself to his scholarship and theory than train a successor. He'll be entering Pentamonium, no longer as a professor but as a full-time scholar."
It was a startling announcement, but Simon thought it made perfect sense.
Eric was the classic scholar type, one who prized theory above all.
Yet while serving as a Kizen professor, he'd had to teach students practicality over theory—black magic they could put to use right here and now—and he'd seemed quietly strained by it.
'I'll be cheering you on, Professor Eric.'
Scholar, not professor. That, Simon thought, was always the suit that fit Eric best.
"Noooooow! I bet you're dying to know who will be taking second-year Jet-Black Mechanics!"
A student from the back rows bellowed out.
"Professor Tyler, obviously!"
"For the record, Professor Tyler is teaching the freshmen's Jet-Black Mechanics this year, so he's busy preparing his first-year curriculum. He has no wish to be handed the post on a technicality, and you can't just shuffle an assignment that's already been fixed."
The students fell into even deeper confusion.
Then who, in the world, was going to teach Jet-Black Mechanics to the second years?
"Enough preamble. Allow me to introduce—!"
Click. Click.
With the sound of heels climbing the stage, a woman drew back the curtain and walked toward the podium.
A black suit tailored to flawless precision, a restrained bob haircut. A cold countenance, and eyes radiating pure charisma.
"You lot don't know how lucky you are! Vice Principal Jane Olivia has personally agreed to take charge of second-year Jet-Black Mechanics!"
A roar erupted that could have blown the ceiling off the underground auditorium. Not a single second-year was in their right mind.
"Professor Jane!! Our professor Jane is taking Jet-Black Mechanics!"
Meilin was so overjoyed she bounced up and down where she stood, then collided with Camibarez, who was bouncing right alongside her, and the two fell into each other's arms.
"Ahhh, this is too good! If this is a dream, I never want to wake up!"
"Congratulations, Meilin!"
"...Wow. Just, wow."
Rick let out a goofy grin.
"Jet-Black Mechanics just hit the jackpot, huh? Course registration this year is going to be an absolute bloodbath."
Jane's prowess was famous, but the Class A students knew it better than anyone.
In truth, Jane had taken Class A and turned it into the highest-scoring, lowest-attrition class of all fourteen.
"Simon! You're taking Professor Jane's class too, right?"
Camibarez asked, her eyes round as saucers.
"Of course I am."
Simon's blood was burning with determination as well.
From second year onward, once a department was declared, students could take general electives on top of their major courses.
Major courses were fixed at three or four. The real war broke out over the general electives—by custom, every head professor opened at least one general elective alongside their major courses to teach the wider student body.
If he failed to secure Jane's Jet-Black Mechanics elective in course registration, the future looked pitch black.
"This department choice is giving me a headache."
"What do we do?"
Jet-Black Mechanics was already beloved for its sheer versatility—but the mere fact that Jane would be heading it had some students seriously weighing their chosen department against it.
"Noooow, Professor, the floor is yours!"
Jane took up the voice-amplifying crystal orb handed to her by a henchman and faced the students.
Ah. Ah. A slightly husky yet slender voice rang out across the hall.
"So it has been decided."
Those were Jane's first words.
"You've no doubt heard the rumors, but I cut down anyone I judge unfit—third-years included. I trust none of you will loiter around on half-baked thoughts and end up regretting it."
Expressionless, she moved to set down the crystal orb. Then—an ah—a faint smile crossed her lips as she raised it back to her mouth.
"Additionally: every member of Class A will be enrolled in my course. That is all."
WAAAAAAAH!
The students gasped and looked around in astonishment. The former first-year Class A students were chanting her name like lunatics.
"We love you! Professor Jaaaane!"
Meilin was shrieking it with tears shining in her eyes. Simon and Camibarez exchanged smiles and applauded, and Rick let out a whistle.
"Aww, come on, favoritism for Class A!"
"We're all second-years here."
A few students grumbled playfully, but the Class A alumni had already stopped hearing any of it.
No one was more moved than Jamie, the Class A representative.
"Sob... please marry me, Professor Jane!"
"Huh? Rep! What about Hector, and your thing with—"
Face scarlet, Jamie slapped a Silence curse on Rick.
Before long, Jane took her seat at the professor's dais, and with that, every head professor was in place.
"Ah, and Jane went off to the second years."
"I really wanted to sit in on Professor Jane's advanced black magic course."
"Isn't Kizen favoring the second years a bit too much?"
The third-years let their deep disappointment show.
Just last year, Jane had taken only first-year Class A while running a few third-year courses on the side.
But this year she had been swept entirely into the second year, leaving the third-years with little choice but to commit the embarrassing indignity of auditing their juniors' classes just to catch a glimpse of her face.
"Is the faculty insane or what? Jane, Bahil, AND Hong Peng, all on the second years?"
"...If only we still had Eisel, we'd never have sunk this low."
It had all come about through a chain of coincidences, nothing more—but the sense of grievance and resentment smoldering among third-years like Leonard and Will was quietly growing by the day.
Immediately afterward came the very core of today's event—its crowning highlight. The Department Selection Ceremony began.
Each department's maximum capacity was sixty students. From rank one down to rank four hundred, students would step forward in order and choose their department.
Which meant the first student to ascend the podium was, without question—
"Second year, rank one: Simon Polentia, to the front."
Simon.
At his appearance, a faint tension even passed among the Kizen professors. Jane closed her eyes; Hong Peng set her chin on her laced fingers, visibly anxious; and Aaron, uncharacteristically tense, swept back his messy hair.
"So that's the boy."
The Spirit Magic and Hemomancy professors, both of the back-row persuasion, likewise gleamed at the arrival of rank number one.
"Hey there~ Mr. Student Council President, sir."
Byeolya bared her jagged shark teeth and clapped Simon on the shoulder.
"The talent destined to carry our Toxicology department is standing right here! Your resistance-type immunities are the best in the whole year, aren't they? Am I wrong?"
"......Ahaha."
Simon managed an awkward smile.
Jane crossed her arms, as though that remark had soured her mood, and Hong Peng in particular hardened her expression into stone before muttering something to a waiting broadcast henchman. He sprinted off to whisper into Byeolya's ear, and she grumbled, 'Yeah, yeah, I know. Just kidding.'
"Well then! The choice of the year's top scorer is a weighty one! Even I'm curious which department you'll take. Care to say a word?"
Simon smiled faintly.
"From the moment I entered Kizen until this very day, there has been one field of study that never stopped setting my heart on fire. Kizen is full of wonderful classes and wonderful professors, to be sure—but looking back from where I stand now, I believe my heart was decided from the very beginning."
Simon strode forward.
Before the podium stood seven altars.
The clustered-doll sigil, symbolizing the Curse department.
The witch's hat sigil, symbolizing Jet-Black Mechanics.
The zombie sigil, symbolizing Summoning.
The ghost sigil, symbolizing Spirit Magic.
The blood drop sigil, symbolizing Hemomancy.
The shattered potion bottle and skull sigil, symbolizing Toxicology.
The ringed fist sigil, symbolizing Magic Combat.
With a light, steadying breath, Simon approached one of the altars and plunged his hand into its searing flame.
'It doesn't burn.'
Inside the fire, his fingers found a single card.
He drew it out and held it up for all to see.
On the card's back was painted the zombie sigil.
"Rank one, Simon Polentia's choice—the Summoning department!"
As the cheers exploded around him, Simon turned the card over. On its front, flames flickered and curled as his name inscribed itself in fire.
Kizen Summoning Department — Second Year
Simon Polentia
Includes commanding authority over war deployments
It was the new second-year student ID, the one that carried the right to command in wartime deployments.
'So THIS is the legendary one!'
Simon carefully tucked the drawn student ID against his chest and moved along as the TAs directed.
His place was toward the professor's dais—where Aaron had already risen from his seat.
He could see Jane and Hong Peng looking suitably crestfallen, but in truth it had only ever been a sliver of hope. That Simon would choose the Summoning department had been all but settled fact among the professors.
"Good to have you."
Aaron extended his hand with his usual indifference, though the corners of his mouth kept twitching. Simon clasped it and beamed.
"I look forward to another year with you, Professor Aaron."
His department head: Aaron.
And the very man who would become Simon's direct professor as well. Nothing could have made for a stronger foundation to build his department life upon.
"The other major professors of the Summoning department want to meet you too. I expect great things."
"Yes, sir! I'll do my best never to fall short of them!"
Having shaken Aaron's hand, Simon followed the TA's guidance down from the podium.
"Oh—one thing, student."
Simon had been about to head down toward his friends, but the TA pointed behind him.
"Students who've finished their department selection are to join the seniors in the Summoning department right away."
He was pointing to the table at the very back of the hall, where the third-years were seated.