Orientation for the Summoning Major
"Mind if I sit here?"
At Simon's question, Lorraine gave a small nod.
"Sure."
Screeech.
Simon pulled out a chair, set down his bag, and took a seat. He'd hurried over on his golem board, and the ride had left him a little warm. He draped his uniform jacket over the backrest and loosened the tie hanging at his collar.
The small beads of sweat gathered there parted to reveal a slender nape. Lorraine, who had been watching sidelong out of the corner of her eye, rolled her gaze back to the front and spoke.
"What's in the bag?"
"Oh, this?"
Simon held up the bag he'd set on the floor.
"I brought it out of habit, but honestly there's nothing in it but quills and ink."
"They never posted a notice about which textbooks we'd need."
"Yeah, the professors will probably tell us today."
This time it was Simon's turn to look toward Lorraine.
He could see the long lashes and ruby-like eyes of a girl who was talking while facing forward. Not a hair out of place, even during break time.
Though Lorraine herself didn't much care for hearing it, she really did seem two or three years older than she was. Far more mature even than Benya, a third-year and their senior. Rather than the bright, lively look that suited most girls in uniform, a quiet, pitch-black formal dress would have suited her perfectly.
The gaze that had been resting on Lorraine's face drifted down to the necklace fastened around her neck.
A silver padlock dangling like an ornament from the end of her choker. For a mere accessory, the design was a bit... odd.
'There are plenty of pretty decorations out there, but she goes with a padlock. Is there some reason for it?'
Simon remembered the choker Lethe had worn in the Holy Federation — the one that sealed a Saintess's power. It had been the same choker design, though without a padlock.
What on earth had happened between Lorraine and Nephthys over the break?
"Simon."
He jolted and turned his head.
"Ah — yes!"
"Congratulations on becoming Student Council President."
Simon answered "Thanks" with a sheepish smile.
"It should have been you, really."
"No. It suits you better than me."
It didn't sound like empty pleasantries. Her tone was calm and unadorned. She genuinely believed it.
"Where's your council armband?"
"In my bag."
Simon drew the armband out of the front pocket and showed it to her.
"Professor Jane told me not to go flaunting the council thing during class. She said to come at it with the attitude and mindset of just one ordinary student."
Lorraine nodded.
"Mm. As expected, Professor Jane is wise."
"Right?"
"……"
Maybe it was because it was the first day of class, but things still felt awkward between him and Lorraine. Even this — talking with her in the same classroom — hadn't quite sunk in yet.
This time Simon was the one to raise a topic first.
"Hey, Lorraine. There's something I've been curious about."
"?"
"Why did you choose the Summoning major?"
Of all the types of necromancers out there, she was the classic 'all-in on the gift' archetype. In battle or otherwise, she tended to lean on her ability far more than on pure dark magic, so he'd assumed she'd go for Jet-Black Mechanics.
"My ability was Summoning-aligned to begin with."
"…I-is that so?"
"Mhm. I reinforce my summons by layering my ability over them, or I summon creatures that are themselves composed of it."
'Now that I think about it…'
He recalled the sight of her pouring her ability into her skeleton horse, transforming it into a massive crimson steed. And her signature technique — the red flash fired through a portal — was, strictly speaking, not something Lorraine herself shot, but something the unknown lifeform inside the portal discharged.
"Even just to broaden the spectrum of my ability, I judged that the Summoning major was the right choice."
"That does make sense."
"Then I suppose you're not curious about this, either?"
A sly voice drifted in from behind them. He turned — and there stood Serne, the girl with sand-colored hair, a bewitching smile playing on her lips.
"Why I chose the Summoning major."
The warmth drained from Lorraine's kind face, replaced in an instant by wariness. Simon replied with a bitter smile.
"I told you that reason yesterday, didn't I?"
"Oh dear, did you? What was it again? What was it~?"
Serne pressed him, as if she'd been waiting for exactly those words. The reason did come to mind, but embarrassment blurred his voice.
"Uh, um. Your yardstick for judging value… what was it again."
She took a step closer and gripped the back of his chair.
"I'll tell you for certain."
Then, slowly, she leaned down. A faint scent of roses washed over him as her face drew near.
"My yardstick for judging value is—"
A secretive, honeyed voice tickled his ear.
"—whether you want something. Or you don't. That's all there is."
Simon's face went scarlet. Serne, looking utterly satisfied with the statue-still, frozen Simon, straightened back up.
"Got it?"
With a foxlike grin, she claimed the empty seat on Simon's left.
She immediately crossed her legs with an air of arrogance, hooked both arms over the chair's armrests, and tilted her chin up. The polar opposite of Lorraine's prim posture — pure, unfiltered my-way-or-the-highway.
'Here we go again.'
Simon closed his eyes.
Lorraine was glaring at Serne; Serne, as if to provoke her further, didn't so much as flinch. The students seated around them kept glancing back and forth between the two girls.
Really, wherever they went, all eyes gravitated to those two.
Tap-tap-tap!
Just then, Toto — having finally seen to his urgent business — burst into the classroom, sweeping his gaze around in search of Simon, who'd walked to school with him.
"Toto, over here! Here!"
Simon kindly waved him over.
"Ah, Simon! So you were right there—!"
Mid-sentence, Toto froze like a statue. Lorraine and Serne, flanking Simon on either side, had both turned to look at him.
'Gah!'
Lorraine had only looked because Simon waved — but to Toto, who feared girls, it felt like an icy glare. And the look from Serne beside her was even more raw.
'……'
Eyes like one regards an insect.
'S-s-scary!'
Having weathered Meilin several times already, Toto's gynophobia had only deepened, and he trembled like a leaf — utterly oblivious to Simon beckoning him to hurry up.
'Ungh. S-still, that's incredible. How can he just talk to girls that terrifying?'
Creeping forward, Toto settled into the seat behind Simon with the feeling of sitting on a bed of nails.
Right in front of him were two girls, one with black hair, one with white.
"Hello."
At that moment the black-haired one — Lorraine — turned her head and greeted him.
CRASH!
So startled was Toto that he toppled clean off his chair. Just as a flustered Lorraine moved to rise, Toto shot to his feet at the speed of light, beating her to it.
"G-good morning, ma'am!"
Nephthys's daughter just spoke to me!
As Toto bowed and scraped, Lorraine waved her hands in embarrassment.
"Please don't do that. We're both second-years."
"Yes, ma'am! I mean — no, I mean, yeah!"
"Ugh, so noisy."
Serne turned around and raked him with those insect-inspecting eyes once more.
"Want me to turn you into a monkey for real?"
Toto reflected that going to the bathroom had been a very good decision. If he'd needed to go badly enough, that look alone would have soaked his trousers.
"That's enough, Serne."
Simon cut in, and she dropped the whole act, flashing a lovely smile and pitching her voice into something lilting and sweet.
"Simon, Simon~ want to come out to Rochest with me this weekend? Or Langestin's fine too."
Toto marveled that a human voice could change that completely.
And Lorraine reacted as sharply as if she'd heard a slur.
"Langestin? Off the island again without school permission, I take it?"
"Oh, are you a teacher now? Why do you keep butting into everything between me and Simon?"
Just as the two were squaring up for another round, a student came sprinting in from the corridor.
"The professor's coming!"
The students scrambled noisily back to their seats. A moment later came the distinctive sound of slippers dragging across the floor.
Screeeech!
The door opened and in shuffled Aaron — bedheaded and scruffy as ever — trailing his slippers behind him. TAs hurried in after him and stood at rigid attention.
"Good to see you all."
Aaron drawled.
"Some of you know me, some of you don't. I'm Aaron Deia, and I'll be teaching you Summoning this year."
Applause erupted from all corners of the room.
Aaron walked to the blackboard and lazily chalked out the words Second-Year Summoning. One hand jammed in his pocket, writing with only the other, wearing the expression of a man who found the entire universe tiresome — some things never changed.
"Relax."
He said, letting his chalk-holding hand sag at his side.
"Today we'll just do a simple orientation and call it a day."
Simon half expected cannons to open fire from every direction. Joyful whoops of Whooo! were bursting out all over the room.
Aaron added the word Orientation beneath Second-Year Summoning on the board.
"In proper Kizen fashion we should be hitting the ground running from the very first class, but there's a bit of a situation at the school."
He tapped the blackboard with his chalk.
"Tomorrow's the entrance ceremony — a big event — so we're off. Consider real classes to start the day after. Don't let it drag on too long, though."
"Yes, sir!"
Aaron twirled his chalk and, beneath Intermediate Dark Magic, chalked out another line.
"The Summoning major's regular core classes for the first semester are three."
Intermediate Major: Summoning
Summoning Funerary Studies
Summoning Materials Studies
Aaron stopped writing and looked out at the students.
"All of the second-year first-semester core classes are mandatory subjects. And the professors for the other major courses are all veterans with careers you couldn't even compare to mine. Masters who wield absolute authority in their particular fields — so learn as much as you can from them."
Broadly speaking, Aaron's own Intermediate Major Summoning would anchor the curriculum and drive through the textbook material, while the other two subjects would teach genres even more specialized and advanced. Beyond that, it seemed classes would frequently be held by professional necromancers from the field and outside scholars, all to build up the students' professional competence.
"A quick overview, then: the first summon we'll cover in my class is the 'Skeleton Knight.'"
Skeleton Knight!
Simon's eyes sparkled at the debut of a new undead. Toto and a few of the other second-years rolled their tongues at what 'hitting the ground running' apparently meant.
"You are now, formally, specialists in a field. I trust you'll dispatch something like a Skeleton Knight without breaking a sweat. Details are in the printouts."
The TAs moved briskly down the rows of desks, setting printouts before the students.
Simon skimmed a few pages and his jaw dropped.
'What kind of required materials are these…'
The list of class materials was packed tight. The textbook, of course, plus the raw components for the Skeleton Knight — and beyond those, mana oil, bone adhesive, slime byproducts, and a whole catalogue of other ingredients.
'So the initial startup costs really are steep.'
Some purchases would last a long while, but consumables would always need replenishing eventually. The faces of a few students who'd read the list were already darkening.
"Let me say this: securing your own materials is a vital skill for a necromancer."
Aaron continued in his lazy drawl.
"Set up holes that money regularly flows into, and secure logistics routes that bring your materials in cheap. Don't spend today and tomorrow just playing around — build this infrastructure now. The status and credit of a Kizen second-year is more powerful than you imagine."
One student raised a hand.
"A hole money regularly flows into… like what?"
Aaron gestured with his chalk.
"Take Simon Polentia there, for example. He registered a thesis at Pentamonium at the end of his first year, and he's been collecting royalties on it steadily ever since."
Every eye in the room suddenly swung toward him. Simon, mortified, turned his head away as casually as he could manage.
"You can receive patronage from nobles in Kizen's name, exhibit at trade fairs, or sell your work directly to the Rochest merchants. Whatever it is, establish yourself as fast as you can. Don't take out loans chasing your coursework only to end up flat broke — and above all, stop borrowing from your parents."
Silence settled over the room. Aaron's eyes sharpened.
"For your parents, having a child at Kizen is the greatest hope in the world. They can't bear to see you hemmed in at school for lack of support. They'd never come out and say money's tight at home — but I've seen plenty of cases where a student graduates, returns to the family estate, and finds it drowning in debt with the mansion up for sale."
The students swallowed hard, one after another.
"I'll say it again. The status and credit of a Kizen second-year is stronger than you think. If you truly can't open a hole for money to flow in, come see me. That's all."
Simon counted himself lucky to have finished Israfil's mission — he still had ten thousand gold in hand.
"I'll have to take a part-time job tomorrow."
Lorraine sighed beside him. Apparently even her allowance fell short.
"That's pocket change."
Serne, for her part, was smiling without a care in the world.
"U-uummm…"
Toto, meanwhile, had an earthquake going off in his pupils. Simon turned around.
"If you're short on money, I could lend you a little."
"N-no! I'm fine!"
Toto waved his hands frantically.
"I couldn't possibly impose that much! I can manage something on this level!!"
"Hmm. You sure?"
And with that, orientation class was over.
The students were under financial strain, to be sure, but nothing could quite smother the joy of class letting out. With the whole of tomorrow off as well, life could not possibly get any sweeter.
Simon was filing out of the classroom, walking along deep in conversation with Lorraine and Serne, when—
"Hey!!"
A hand shot out of the crowd and clamped around Simon's wrist. Lorraine and Serne both stiffened.
"Meilin!"
Meilin, the student council armband on her right arm, yanked him by the wrist. She glanced apologetically at Lorraine.
"Hi, Lorraine! Sorry! It's urgent — I'm stealing Simon!"
"Ah, sure."
Lorraine waved with an awkward smile. Serne called out after them, dripping with wounded feelings.
"Oh my, Meilin! Can't you even see I'm here?"
"You can freeze to death and rot, Serne! Get lost!!"
She hauled Simon off by the wrist at a run, and Simon found himself sprinting along in her wake.
"Meilin! What's going on all of a sudden?"
She threw a grin over her shoulder and shouted.
"What do you think? Student council summons! Hurry up and put on your armband!"
The Student Council Room.
"Welcome, Simon!"
The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, Camibarez — busy sorting a mountain of paperwork into tidy stacks — beamed at him.
"Heyyy~ I'm here."
Dick looked up from the sofa, where he'd been leafing through the exhibit list. Both of them wore the student council armband on their right arms.
Meilin, following him in, clapped her hands briskly.
"Alright, let's work! Work! We have to have the entrance ceremony completely wrapped up by the end of today."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Okay."
Everyone rose from their seats to gather their things — when a knock sounded from behind them.
"Pardon the interruption, council members!"
Poking her head into the room was none other than Jane's Head TA.
"Miss TA—! I mean, ma'am! Where are we going? We've got a mountain of work today and no time to spare."
At Meilin's question, the Head TA smiled.
"Four people won't be enough hands to handle all that prep by yourselves, will they? We're going to go meet the Student Council's direct retainers — the Henchmen — right now."
At the word direct, every pair of eyes went wide.
"Whoa! We get our own henchmen to command?!"