The Threshold of Aland
Baldwin Kingdom. The Poeta Great Forest.
This was the vast woodland nicknamed the 'Lungs of the Continent,' where a refreshing wind swept through and the rustle of shaking leaves broke over the branches like waves.
And it was here, in the heart of the forest, that one of the Three Great Necromancer Schools made its home: Aland.
Simon and Jane walked side by side along the forest path that led toward it.
'I'm... nervous.'
Simon stole a sideways glance at Jane.
This was his first time walking alone with her, too. With that frost-chilled face fixed straight ahead, she gave no hint of what she was thinking or how she was feeling. There was simply no way to tell.
Simon and every other second-year student revered Jane — and, in equal measure, feared her. It wasn't just her position as Vice Principal, or the overwhelming reputation and achievements she had accumulated over the years. She simply never let students see what lay beneath the surface. She didn't particularly go out of her way to be warm to anyone, either.
Cold. Strict. And terrifying enough when angered to scramble your sanity — that was about all anyone knew.
'I can't afford a single mistake in front of Professor Jane.'
Before he knew it, he was conscious of his every breath and every step.
"Student Council President."
Her lips parted without warning. Simon snapped to attention.
"Yes, Professor!"
"At attention."
Though he had no idea why, Simon snapped into a rigid salute.
Jane glided forward and pressed her white palm against his body, adjusting his frame.
"Tuck in your chin. Tighten your core."
Simon's face flushed red.
"Shoulders as far back as they'll go, eyes forward. Hands loosely fisted."
She smoothed down his coat, smoothed out the creases, straightened his shirt collar, and gave his tie one more impeccable adjustment.
"From this moment on, we represent Kizen as we enter Aland. And because we represent the school, we must never — under any circumstances — do anything that stains its honor."
"Understood, Professor!"
"At times, professors from the other schools may try to probe you in one way or another. You learned your etiquette thoroughly in your Royal Studies classes, yes? Simply handle everything calmly, exactly as you were taught."
Etiquette might be a tedious subject, but for nobles it was as vital as a knight's sword. A lapse in etiquette earned you the labels of 'rude' and 'low-class' — and for a noble, such a reputation could be fatal.
"Hold yourself with pride. You are the Student Council President of Kizen."
She gave his shoulder a light tap, offered a faint smile, and fell back in beside him.
"Let's keep moving."
"Yes, ma'am!"
His heart was pounding. He felt several times more nervous than he ever did heading into battle.
Before long, they came upon a stretch of woods where the trees grew unnaturally, impossibly dense. Trunks and thorned vines tangled together until there wasn't a gap wide enough for a single person to pass.
'So this is Aland's barrier.'
Outsiders couldn't simply ride a teleportation circle straight into the school. A small ritual was required first.
Jane walked forward as though this were old routine, then spoke calmly to the empty air.
"I am Jane Olivia of Kizen. I have come to Aland to escort our transfer students."
With a rush of rustling leaves, the forest responded. The surrounding trees parted left and right, carving out a pristine footpath.
Jane pointed ahead, her face expressionless.
"Let's go."
"Ah — yes!"
Simon murmured a small gasp of admiration and walked on.
Jane struck up conversation again.
"Student Council President. Are you familiar with the transfer tradition of the Three Great Necromancer Schools?"
"Ah — no, Professor."
Kizen stood alone at the very summit — the Dark Alliance's unrivaled, peerless educational institution. Directly beneath it sat the three public schools known as the Three Great Necromancer Schools.
Aland. Sierra. Moiran.
Once a year, each of these schools selected the three most outstanding students from its entire second-year class and sent them to transfer into Kizen.
In truth, this transfer into Kizen was the brightest future and the ultimate dream that students of the Three Great Necromancer Schools could imagine. There were even those who enrolled in one of the three schools from the very start with cold calculation, seized the top rank, and set their sights on transferring into Kizen's second year.
And for the schools' upper echelons, nothing was a greater source of pride, honor, and publicity than how well their transfer graduates performed inside Kizen — how high a rank they held their ground at.
'These transfer students... I absolutely can't take them lightly.'
The students he was about to meet were the finest of the fine — talents upon whom the full weight of a kingdom's and a school's concentrated resources had been lavished.
By all accounts, they went on to maintain middle-to-upper ranks or better even in Kizen. Occasionally, one of them even broke into the TOP 10.
"B-but Professor. What exactly is this 'transfer tradition'?"
"Nothing much."
She lowered her long eyelashes and went on.
"When you arrive at the school, there will be an exhibition match against the transfer students. We call it the Transfer Evaluation Match."
"Wha—?!"
She furrowed her brow and pressed a finger to her lips.
"Composure."
"I-I'm sorry!"
"What is there to be so shocked about? You simply go and teach the transfer students a lesson, as befits Kizen's Student Council President. The Three Great Necromancer Schools use it to gauge how well their own students measure up against Kizen's Student Council President, and Kizen uses it as the first stage of evaluating the transfer students' abilities."
As she said this, the corner of her mouth curled upward — just barely, just subtly.
"Of course, they'll pull every petty trick in the book, home-field advantage included. Break straight through the front and show them the gulf between you."
Sweat beaded down Simon's face.
Wait — is she really allowed to say that so casually? These are necromancers that entire kingdoms and schools poured everything into raising, aren't they?
"Wh-what happens if I lose?"
To that trembling question,
Jane answered with a soft, elegant smile.
'......!!'
A shiver ran up his spine, and a cold sweat broke over his whole body.
"I-I will win. No matter what."
"Of course you will."
Jane folded her arms as she walked.
"Still, steel yourself. They're all second-year student council presidents themselves this year — they'll be confident they can hold their own, and they'll come at you hard."
"Yes, ma'am."
Raising the school's authority and honor abroad was one of the Student Council President's duties. If Simon lost the Transfer Evaluation Match, his seat as president would inevitably be shaken. He had to win. Period.
When they passed through the footpath the forest had carved open, Aland's campus finally revealed itself.
'Whoa......!'
Aland was a campus remarkably at one with nature.
The mountain had been left untouched rather than carved away, so the paths climbed steeply and wound unevenly, and trees packed every corner of the grounds.
Ivy cascaded down the walls, and every floor of every building seemed to have its own garden. Monkeys and lizards darted past in flashes of movement, and deer roamed freely across the grounds.
And several things he had taken for grassy hills turned out, on closer look, to be towers and buildings completely swallowed by green trees and forest.
"Well now — welcome, welcome! What a long journey you've had. My deepest thanks for coming all this way!"
An elderly man with a balding head, leaning on a cane, greeted the two of them warmly. Behind him stood a row of Aland's professors.
"Thank you for your hospitality. It has been far too long, Headmaster Agrippa."
'He's the Headmaster?'
Simon jolted in surprise. The single highest person in the school had come out to greet them at the entrance itself.
Aland's headmaster shook hands with Jane — herself a young female professor — with the utmost courtesy, bowing low.
Jane, for her part, kept her back perfectly straight, holding a proud, unbending posture.
A headmaster and a vice principal exchanging greetings without a trace of a smile, faces like carved stone.
It was a moment that laid bare the sheer power and authority of Kizen.
"And this one I haven't met before."
Aland's headmaster approached with a benevolent smile. Simon answered with perfect composure.
"Simon Polentia, Student Council President of Kizen!"
"Ah — the exploits of Kizen's Student Council President are well known to me. To think this year's president hails from the Summoning Department. I have very high expectations indeed. Our own Aland has been pouring considerable effort into reviving the art of summoning as well, you know."
He added with a knowing grin,
"I look forward to the match to come, as well."
Simon then followed Jane's lead and greeted each of Aland's professors in turn.
Just as Jane had warned, there were those among them who tested his etiquette — extending their left hand first, or offering a handshake with a hand placed over their chest.
Simon, of course, simply waited without moving until they offered their right hand, or reciprocated the hand-over-the-heart salute in kind, matching the proper etiquette each time. Those hoping to catch him in a slip turned away with sheepish expressions.
"Right this way, then."
Aland's headmaster extended his arm.
"Our students are waiting."
"Yes."
Simon fell into step behind the headmaster.
Their destination was an enormous wooden arena situated within the school grounds.
And the moment Simon stepped inside—
WAAAAAAAH!
From the stands, a colossal crowd unleashed a thunderous roar. The sheer volume of sound and bodies took Simon aback.
'Whoa — is the entire student body here?'
Waves of Aland's green uniforms rippled through every section of the stands. It was pure psychological warfare — every last one of them was on their feet, veins bulging, screaming jeers at the top of their lungs.
Every person in that arena was staring at Simon.
"Look who it is! The high-and-mighty Kizen pretty boy!"
"So the honor student knows how to throw a punch, does he?"
"WAAAAAAH!"
Childish.
Simon let a faint smile touch his lips, gave his Student Council President coat a light shake, and strode into the arena with unshakable confidence in every step.
Across the field stood two male students and one female student. Those three had to be this year's Kizen transfer candidates.
Green tops with plaid trousers or skirts — the uniform that their rivals at Sierra loved to mock as the 'grasshopper outfit.'
"Hey, Simon! Long time no see!"
One of the male transfer students waved and greeted him like an old friend.
Playful, twitching eyebrows, wavy brown hair cropped short at the sides and back.
"Welcome to our beloved alma mater! Welcome to Aland!"
Simon blinked at him.
"......Sorry, who are you again?"
The boy wobbled in place.
"What?! You forgot already?! It's me! Me! Benz! We met at the Pentamonium academic fair!"
Benz, huh.
No offense intended, but Simon genuinely had no memory of him.
Come to think of it, his first encounter with students of the Three Great Necromancer Schools had been at the first-year Pentamonium academic fair. This was probably one of the students he'd exchanged a few words with there.
"Seriously?! How do you not remember me?! You really don't? At Pentamonium — I shook your hand with everything I had and nearly dislocated my arm!"
"Don't give your opponent free ammunition before the match even starts, Benz."
The female student hastily clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Anyway!"
Benz clenched his fist.
"Nobody here buys that you deserve to be Student Council President, Simon!"
Though he still couldn't quite place the boy, Simon nodded with an easy smile.
"So you're my opponent?"
"That's right."
Benz's eyes turned serious.
"I've spent all this time grinding my skills to the bone. I'm going to pour everything I have into this one arena, right here, right now! I'll show you the Summoning Arts of Aland!"
"Looking forward to it."
The referee stepped forward.
"Both competitors, prepare yourselves."
Beside Benz, one of Aland's Summoning professors came scampering out like a cornerman, fussing a protective vest onto him while rattling off points to remember and a full rundown of Simon's combat style.
Jane approached Simon carrying a protective suit of his own.
"The duel evaluation rules are the same as always. This is your first time fighting in an opponent's home arena, I take it?"
"Yes."
"I trust a little home-field advantage won't be a problem."
Jane folded her arms.
"Fight like Kizen."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Simon nodded with a smile. The referee raised his arm.
"Both competitors, shake hands!"
Simon and Benz clasped hands.
"Looking forward to a good match!"
"Likewise."
The handshake concluded, the two of them parted and withdrew to their positions.
Thousands of Aland students filling the arena sent up a wall of cheering for Benz. Some held up placards; others waved flags emblazoned with Aland's crest.
This year's 'Transfer Evaluation Match' was evidently a very big deal for Aland.
"And now! The Transfer Evaluation Match between Aland's representative, student Benz, and Kizen's representative, student Simon, will begin!"
The roar of the crowd was enough to burst his eardrums. Simon and Benz lowered into their stances, and the referee lifted his arm high.
"Begin!"