Twenty Gold and a Waitlist No. 1
Simon had exactly twenty gold to his name.
It was no small sum—Richard had stretched himself thin to set it aside—but if it wasn't enough...
"Since you're a guest of Lady Lorraine herself, I'll be perfectly honest with you—no discounts, no games."
Stephanie spoke with the utmost courtesy.
"Five thousand gold."
"...I'm sorry?"
In Simon's mind, he could hear the sound of the sky collapsing.
That much would cover Leshill's budget for years...
"I'll take care of the bill."
Lorraine pulled out her wallet. A bright smile spread across Stephanie's face, and the two of them began moving toward the counter to pay.
"Wait a moment!"
Simon cried out.
"What's wrong?"
"Y-you really don't have to do this! Five thousand gold! I can't accept a gift this enormous!"
Lorraine tilted her head.
"Did Mom not tell you? My mother is the one paying for this."
"...Lady Nephthys is?"
"Yep. Let's see, what did she say..."
Lorraine pressed a hand to her lips and thought for a moment.
"I don't know the details, but Mom says she owes your parents a great debt. It's something the adults settled between themselves, so don't feel burdened by it."
"Ah..."
And so, after a fair amount of back-and-forth no matter who actually settled the bill, Simon ended up accepting the subspace pocket.
"Thank you for your patronage, sir! And my lady! Please visit us again!"
As Simon and Lorraine stepped out of the shop, Stephanie and the staff bowed deeply at their backs.
They were outside once more, sunlight spilling over them.
Simon stared, spellbound, at the ring glowing between his fingers.
This is actually mine.
He was so happy it was hard to keep his face composed.
"Do you like it that much?"
"...Haha."
Simon let out an embarrassed laugh.
"I've been placed in your debt far too deeply. I don't know how I could ever repay Lady Nephthys..."
"Don't worry about it. If there's anything my mother wants from you, I'd say it's simply that you hold your own at Kizen."
"You can count on it! I'll give it everything I have!"
The shopping trip with Lorraine continued long after that.
Along with the essentials for life ahead—writing tools, notebooks, lamps—they picked up a skeleton set and all manner of reagents and ingredients, tucking everything away into the subspace pocket.
According to Lorraine, supplies could be bought in the satellite city in front of Kizen as well, but everything there cost far more.
"Simon! Let's go do that thing!"
"...Is throwing darts also part of enrollment preparation?"
"It's just for fun!"
She wandered off the path now and then... but she was, all things considered, a capable guide.
"All right, time to light them up!"
"Yes! Now!"
At a lookout point in Langestin, Simon and Lorraine released their lanterns at the same instant, and the lights soared up into the night sky.
All around them, others were sending up lanterns of their own. The heavens blushed a breathtaking crimson as a dazzling feast of lights unfolded overhead.
People swept up in the moment cheered and clapped, and couples, as if they'd been waiting for exactly this, began to kiss.
"Behold, Langestin's essential tourist attraction—A Thousand Lights."
Lorraine planted her hands on her hips and wore a thoroughly proud smile.
"What's your review, Simon? Be honest."
"Can I really be honest?"
"Of course."
Simon answered without taking his eyes off the lanterns embroidering the night sky.
"It's just a thousand suckers paying two hundred silver apiece for burning oil paper. That's sort of what I was thinking..."
"..."
Her face went flat with disbelief.
"You really are going to fit right in at Kizen."
"Thank you. I'll do my very best to—"
"That wasn't a compliment!"
And so their final stop was a charming restaurant overlooking the sea.
A lavish chandelier hung from the ceiling, the tableware gleamed without exception, and even the waiters served in ties and crisp uniforms.
Simon had never set foot in a restaurant like this in his life.
The food went without saying. The moment a glistening, juicy steak melted into his mouth, an indescribable happiness made his whole body tremble.
Besides, all he had to do was turn his head and there was the night sea spread out like a painting, the sound of waves hissing as they broke against the shore in his ears. It was, quite simply, a space close to perfection.
"You handle fancy tableware quite well, don't you? A noble is a noble after all."
Lorraine rested her chin on her hand and smiled.
"My father was strict about etiquette."
"Good for you. Ah—one thing, just in case. Roughly thirty percent of Kizen students are commoners."
She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and went on.
"Throwing rank around won't fly. Kizen runs on pure meritocracy—even a duke's daughter bows her head to a senior-year commoner. Best to think of everyone as equals, all first-years together."
Simon nodded, promising to keep it in mind. Back in Leshill, he'd gotten along with everyone regardless of whether they were a baron or a commoner, so he wasn't worried on that front.
"Enrollment's tomorrow. If you're curious about anything, ask away."
"Hmm... ah! This morning I ran into another incoming student, and we got to talking about majors."
"Majors? Now that's a good question."
Lorraine smiled sweetly and continued.
"There are nine subjects you take in the first semester of your first year. From the second semester, you can pick the classes you want, and when you advance to your second year, you have to choose a major."
"Then I'd better figure out quickly which subjects I'm best at."
"Exactly that!"
Her eyes gleamed like a strategist's as she twirled her fork around.
"Even in the first semester, it pays to decide your main event early and study with that focus. During group classes, the students with a clear specialty are always the popular ones."
"I'll remember that for sure."
"Do you have a major in mind already?"
Simon thought back on the morning for a moment. The sight of bone fragments crawling out of a garbage heap and snapping themselves together into an undead.
It had been so striking that it was carved deep into his memory.
"...I'm feeling somewhat drawn to Summoning."
"Summoning is great! So you're aiming for the classical path."
Lorraine talked at length about the various subjects, and Simon listened with shining eyes.
The conversation flowed easily between them. Simon did most of the listening, of course, but from her side of the table, the sight of him hanging on her every word was more than welcome.
Even after dinner ended, the two of them, reluctant to call it a night, moved on to a nearby tavern for a second and third round.
It was Simon's first time drinking, too.
Being underage, he hesitated at first, but Lorraine assured him that alcohol was permitted for Kizen students. Still, with the enrollment ceremony the next day, they each stopped at the point of feeling pleasantly warm—no further.
The conversation stretched long, and it wasn't until the small hours, just past midnight, that Simon finally made it back to his lodging.
"Thank you for walking me back, Lorraine."
"Oh, please. This is nothing."
"Well..."
Simon's face flushed red as he scratched his head.
"It should really be me walking you home..."
"Hm?"
Lorraine blinked, wondering what he meant—then a sly smile crept across her face.
"So you did notice."
"...Ahem."
"I'll accept the thought and nothing more. Langestin is a tangled mess of a city—forget escorting me, you'd never even find your way back to your room alone."
He couldn't argue with that.
"Go in and get some rest. If I hear that you were late to the ceremony because you were drinking, my mother will beat me to death."
"I will! Thank you for everything today! I truly had a wonderful time."
Simon bowed his head deeply.
In truth, "wonderful" didn't begin to cover it. Simon had a feeling he would never, ever forget his first day in Langestin.
Lorraine was waving as she walked away when, all of a sudden, she stopped mid-stride and turned back to look at him.
"Oh! Simon. There's actually one thing I need to confess."
"Yes?"
Uncharacteristically sheepish, Lorraine brushed a strand of hair back.
"I wasn't trying to hide it, but somehow I just kept missing my chance to mention it. It's, um..."
"...?"
When their eyes met, she gave him a playful wink.
"The truth is, I'm a first-year too!"
"...I'm—what?"
"So next time we run into each other at school, drop the formalities. Bye now!"
She waved and vanished into the darkness.
"..."
Simon stared blankly at the spot where she'd disappeared—then a chuckle escaped him as he headed inside.
Morning came.
Lorraine had told him to rest well, but excitement and anticipation for his new life left Simon unable to sleep a wink. He rose early, finished preparing, and set out from his lodging.
Lorraine was taking a different route to Kizen, so Simon had to find the meeting point by himself.
Not that he had any trouble—he knew the location by heart.
The spot visible from the restaurant he'd visited with Lorraine the day before: a sharp, pointed jut of land reaching out toward the sea.
As he drew near the meeting point, the crowds along the roadside grew thicker. Most of them were kids Simon's age, and every single one was brimming with personality.
A fairy-kin girl fixing her makeup as she walked, a boy with twenty swords strapped across his body as if he were one giant walking armory, and even a girl strolling leisurely with an enormous case on her back bigger than she was.
I'm definitely the most normal one here.
So Simon thought as he walked—though in truth, every person there was thinking the exact same thing about themselves.
Before long, he reached the meeting point. Kizen's dispatched henchmen were controlling the perimeter, and at the tip of the jutting headland, a single ship sat anchored.
Presumably, that was the vessel that would carry them into Kizen.
"Please hurry. We will be departing for Kizen shortly!"
Simon too lined up and waited to board. One odd detail caught his eye: the hull was pointed toward the land rather than out to sea, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.
"Please present your enrollment certificate."
Simon's turn. He handed over the letter he'd had ready.
The henchman checked the letter against the list in his hand, ticked it off with a quill, and returned it.
"Simon Polentia. Confirmed."
"Thank you."
Just as Simon, having cleared the check, moved to board the ship—
"Something here is clearly wrong!"
An furious protest rang out from the very next line.
"I'm candidate number one, and you're telling me not a single spot has opened up?"
"I apologize, but Lord Lucius is not on the enrollment list."
"Dammit, is this the best you people can manage? Contact Kizen! There's obviously been some kind of mistake!"
A small commotion broke out beside him. As the other students boarded, they murmured among themselves.
"It's a yearly tradition, they say."
"There's always one who can't accept the results."
"Candidate number one? Kinda feel bad for him, honestly. Pfft."
The students snickered as they climbed aboard.
Crack!
After all that uneasy simmering, the situation finally boiled over. The enraged Lucius had gone so far as to knock a henchman flat to the ground.
"I am Lucius Carol, heir to a Count of the Dresden Kingdom! This is a command. Contact Kizen headquarters right now!"
"Please go home. Lord Lucius is not on the enrollment list."
The henchman repeated the same words in a voice of iron. Face bloodred, Lucius finally seized the man by the hair.
The rumble of murmuring swelled.
The mood turned uglier by the second. The students stopped in their tracks to watch, and some even began drawing up their Jet-Black.
Just as Lucius, veins bulging in his eyes, raised his right arm—
Gotcha.
"That's enough."
Lucius's head whipped around. At some point, Simon had circled behind him and seized his arm.
"Who the hell are you? Let go of me!"
"..."
Simon smiled pleasantly and tightened his grip.
CRUNCH!
"AAAAAGH!"
Faced with that impossible grip strength, Lucius shrieked and twisted his body like a pretzel.
No pampered noble boy, raised soft and silk, could hope to withstand the strength Simon had forged through long years of dirty, thankless estate work.
Squeeze. Squeeze.
His body sank lower and lower until, before long, he was down on one knee against the ground. At last the grip on the henchman's hair went slack, and Simon released Lucius's right hand as well.
Lucius scrambled backward as if fleeing, then clutched his wrist and screamed, his face scarlet.
"What the hell is wrong with you, you bastard! You want to die?"
Shing!
When Simon didn't answer, he went so far as to draw the sword at his hip.
The murmur of the crowd grew louder as the situation spiraled toward its extreme.
"What's going on here?"
And then—
A man approached from the direction of the ship.
He was pale as a patient battling some wasting disease, his cheeks hollowed out, streaks of grey threading through his hair, and his hands a sickly yellowish hue.
At the sight of him, the students let out hushed gasps of awe.
"P-Professor Silaje!"
"...Silaje is on the faculty? Kizen really is Kizen."
Even the blustering Lucius, so ferocious a moment ago, began to shrink back and stammer as the man approached.
Silaje let his gaze drift slowly across the scene.
One henchman, sprawled on the ground with disheveled hair. One student who'd lunged in to intervene. And one noble, screaming about being candidate number one.
Silaje regarded Lucius with an expression utterly devoid of interest.
"Any last words?"