The Night the Three Schools Met
He had been beaten, completely and utterly.
Zetz was plummeting, his right wing sheared away. Every foothold around him had been blown to pieces by Simon, and below stretched an endless cliff veiled in clouds.
Fall from the Sky Stadium past the cloud line, and the verdict was 'out of bounds' — elimination, regardless of how much barrier gauge remained.
I can't believe it would end this cheaply……!
Zetz clenched both wings and his eyes blazed.
I refuse to let it end here!
He attempted an emergency reconfiguration of his flight magic circle. Instead of dissipating his two wings, he would blast out his jet-black power in a single explosive burst and ride the thrust like a booster.
Forward!
FWOOSH!
The dark wings hurled him through the air like a stone from a sling. His body dropped onto the narrow strip of ground at the very outer edge of the Sky Stadium.
CRASH-BANG-CLATTER!
Of course, hoping for a graceful landing had been asking too much. He rolled across the ground again and again before slamming into the spectator fence and bouncing off it.
Nearby spectators cried out in shock, and the commentator's anguished wail rang out as he tore at his own hair.
"Ze-Zetz!"
"Is he okay?"
Trembling all over, Zetz pushed himself upright.
Nghhh — thanks to the barrier, I'm alive at least.
Simon Polentia : 79%
Zetz Chimerat : 25% ⚠ CRITICAL
His gauge had plummeted into the twenties in an instant, the barrier indicator blinking an ominous red.
When Zetz lifted his head, he saw Simon gliding gracefully through the air in his Royal Guard flight suit.
"Heh heh……!"
Zetz dragged himself to his feet.
"A skeleton that soars through the sky — and flight armor made from those very skeletons. You had something incredible prepared all along, didn't you, Simon?"
Simon looked down at him.
"You still have the composure to compliment your opponent?"
"Of course I do!"
Zetz grabbed his uniform shirt and ripped it open, baring the magic circle inscribed across his abdomen.
"Because I had a big one prepared too!"
The circle activated instantly.
Zetz Original — Ignipotence
FWAAAAAAR!
A storm of green flame erupted outward in every direction from the circle on his stomach.
This technique has a maximum range of 1,800 meters! I've got him pinned completely!
Simon met the inferno with a sweep of his hand. Emerald light drained from the nearby Royal Guard units, gathered at Simon's side, and wove itself into the shape of a magic circle.
Behind that circle, Simon opened a subspace rift.
"Come forth. Knights."
Simon Original — Royal Guard & Blade Storm
SHWAAAAAAAAAK!
Two Skeleton Knights bursting from the rift were flooded in teal light.
The white vortex swelled into a far larger emerald tempest, punching through the firestorm like a blade of light.
Wh-wh-wh-WHAT?!
Zetz frantically cancelled his dark art and threw up a jet-black shield.
CRUNCH!
The knights' vortex shattered the shield and finally stopped spinning — only to seize Zetz by both arms from either side and slam him to the ground.
"What the—!"
KIIIIIIING—!
Zetz's eyes darted skyward. From the knights and from the flight suit itself, every remaining shred of Cloud in the Royal Guard arsenal converged on Simon's center, flashing into the shape of a pitch-black cross before morphing into an arrow.
"Damn it all!!"
Zetz flailed his arms like a man in convulsions, but the knights did not let go.
Simon Remake — Blood Arrow
The instant Simon's own body dropped with gravity, the black arrow was loosed.
"……Ha."
Only then did the Skeleton Knights release his arms and withdraw, and Zetz stared at the oncoming arrow with a laugh of pure surrender.
"Seriously. You're INSANELY strong."
KA-BOOOOOOOOOM—!
A pitch-black explosion swallowed Zetz whole, fanning out from the impact point in a great cone.
"KYAAAAAA!"
The massive shockwave rolled over the stands, and the students ducked their heads.
Simon Polentia : 79%
Zetz Chimerat : 0%
The referee raised his arm high.
Benz and the Aland transfer students roared themselves hoarse in celebration. The Sierra students slumped in their seats with faces of resigned disappointment, though some among them applauded the fine match.
"Tch. I thought a second-year student council president would be someone we could handle this year."
"Still — Kizen is Kizen, huh."
The Sierra students conceded their defeat cleanly and filed away. The flight suit dissolving around him, Simon drifted lightly down to the slope where Zetz lay.
Having recalled his scattered skeletons, he made his way toward the stands.
He's incredible.
Next year, I'm getting into that school too……!
Especially from the Sierra first-years, eyes full of longing were fixed on Simon.
"Well, then."
And in the VIP box.
Jane turned on her heel and spoke as she walked away.
"We look forward to your cleaning duties, Headmaster. When you report for work next month, the head minion will brief you on what the job entails."
"……Ngh!"
The Headmaster of Sierra, face crimson, was shaking with rage, fists trembling.
That evening.
"I feel alive again."
Simon was enjoying the luxury of a Sierra hot spring all to himself. Melting into the steaming hot water, he felt his fatigue dissolve into the rising steam.
So it's true what they say about Sierra's hot springs.
Simon leaned back. As he gazed absently at the condensation beading on the ceiling, the other student council members suddenly came to mind.
I wonder how everyone's doing with their Mission Assessments.
He'd meant to have a rare sentimental moment, but the spring was so hot that more than an hour in it was simply impossible.
Simon climbed out of the bath, donned one of the outing robes the Sierra side had thoughtfully prepared, and stepped outside, stretching toward the darkening night sky.
It was a rare taste of leisure.
Tarados, then a whirlwind tour of the Three Great Necromancer Schools. It really has been a brutal march.
The plan was to spend the night at Sierra, then depart the next morning for Moiran — the last of the three great schools.
Sierra had handed over an entire guest接待 building five minutes from the springs to serve as their lodging.
Simon ambled leisurely toward it. After a good brawl, even the altitude sickness from the punishing elevation had grown familiar.
"You're Kizen's Student Council President, aren't you?"
"?"
Simon turned toward the voice.
A man with one pitch-black pupil was leaning against a tree.
"Could you spare a moment?"
He wore a red coat over his uniform — cut remarkably similar to Simon's own council president coat.
Could this person be……
"I'm Roberto, Sierra's Student Council President. Third year."
He extended his hand. Simon quickly straightened his posture and took it.
"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Simon Polentia, Student Council President of Kizen."
The two men shook hands briefly. Roberto gestured.
"This isn't the place to talk. Let's move somewhere else for a bit."
"……Ah, yes. Of course."
Roberto led Simon to a nearby school building.
Given his state of dress and the chilly night air, Simon rubbed his arms briskly. Fortunately, the interior of the building was warm.
"In here."
Roberto opened the door, and Simon stepped inside without a shred of suspicion.
"Ah."
Sierra students filled the room. Some were still in uniform; others, freshly bathed like Simon, were sprawled about in comfortable clothes.
And among them sat Zetz — the very man Simon had faced that day.
"SIMON POLENTIA!"
He shot to his feet, gritting his teeth, and strode over to thrust a finger in Simon's face.
"You think you can beat me like that and just walk away? I'm NOT letting you leave like this!"
Simon tilted his head, a question mark practically floating above him.
"Ah, come ON!"
"Why should we take orders from Sierra?!"
The Aland transfer students, dragged from their beds at the lodging, were being herded in as well. The girl who'd brought them glanced back over her shoulder.
"Well, it kills two birds with one stone. The Kizen Student Council President is here, after all."
"Simon is?!"
Benz sprinted breathlessly and flung open the door.
"Hey, Simon! They haven't done anything to you, have they—!"
WAHAHAHAHA!
But what greeted him was nothing like what he'd imagined.
The room buzzed with cheerful, rowdy warmth, everyone laughing at the tops of their lungs. Students sat sprawled across the floor and chairs, drinking champagne, shouting and cracking jokes.
The table was loaded with mouthwatering food. At that very moment, Zetz was in the middle of a personal comedy bit, and the whole room was clutching their stomachs.
"You're late, Aland!"
Zetz shouted warmly and threw his arms wide.
Benz looked around, utterly bewildered — until he spotted Simon seated at the center of it all, merrily clinking champagne glasses with the Sierra Student Council President beside him.
"Simon! What are you doing here?"
"Hm?"
Simon took a sip of champagne.
"They said it was Sierra's last night, so they invited me to hang out."
Benz gave a strangled laugh.
"……You scared me. I came all the way here because I thought you were being held hostage or something."
"Professor Jane is here too, and even if it came to that, I could get out on my own well enough."
"Ooh, confident, aren't we, little brother!"
Roberto, cheeks flushed pink from the champagne, draped an arm around Simon's shoulders with easy familiarity. Simon gave an awkward 'aha-ha' laugh.
"Don't just stand there looking stupid, Aland. Enjoy yourself."
Zetz came over, pressed a fresh glass of champagne into Benz's hand, and shrugged.
"Or what — is last year's loss in the 'Sial Match' still haunting you?"
His berserk button pressed, Benz choked up and bellowed.
"It's not the Sial Match, it's the Al-Sial Match! And you guys bribed the referees for that one!"
"Ugh, here we go again, whining about last year. Sore losers have long tongues~"
"YOU brought it up first!"
Benz whirled toward Simon with a look of pure outrage.
"Simon! Tell us right here, right now! Now that you've fought the evaluation match — who was it? I was tougher, wasn't I? Or was that Sierra bastard tougher?!"
In that instant, a deathly silence fell over the entire room.
Every eye, sharpened with intensity, turned on Simon with a burden of expectation he could feel physically. Simon gave a helpless smile and flexed his wrist.
"The terrain and conditions were completely different, so judging raw strength from one fight is a bit……"
"Then how about this, little brother."
Roberto leaned in, clinking his glass against Simon's.
"Which side was even a little more 'troublesome' to deal with?"
"Hmm."
Simon scratched his temple.
"If I had to say — Zetz was a little more……"
WAAAAAAAH!
The Sierra students erupted in a deafening cheer, hurling snacks and treats into the air like fireworks.
"Unofficial Sial Match — VICTORY FOR SIERRA!"
"NO WAY!"
Benz howled in protest.
"Simon, you traitor! That flying freak was harder to deal with than ME?! You guys! Does this make ANY sense to—!"
"Yeesh, good thing it wasn't you at the evaluation match, Benz."
The other two Aland transfer students conceded gracefully and drifted off with their champagne to mingle with the Sierra students. Benz jabbed a finger at them.
"Shameful! You grasshopper uniform wearers!"
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
And so the students of three schools that so rarely gathered in one place threw a party together and whiled away the hours in joy.
The night of their youth deepened.
The next morning.
Jane looked back over her shoulder from the teleportation circle.
"Is everyone ready?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Their ranks had grown once more through Sierra. With Zetz and two more female students joining, a total of six transfer students would be entering Kizen.
"Our final destination is Moiran."
"……Moiran."
Benz and Zetz both soured at once, faces hardening with displeasure. Simon, wearing his council president coat, glanced back at them.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's just……"
"Those Moiran guys just rub me the wrong way."
Jane placed a hand on her hip.
"Quiet."
"Yes ma'am! Sorry ma'am!"
"The transfer evaluation match with Moiran will be a little special. As in years past, it will be run as a 3-on-3 team match."
Same as always for us — but those guys just have to show off, don't they — came Benz's muttering.
Simon turned to Jane.
"Professor. If it's a 3-on-3 match, don't we need to even out the numbers on our side?"
"No need to worry about that."
Jane swept a hand through her hair, her expression indifferent.
"I've had qualified students standing by. They should have arrived by now — we'll see them once we reach Moiran. Now, let's go."
"?"
Today was the last day of the Mission Assessments, wasn't it? Who on earth could be coming?
Nursing that question, Simon stepped onto the teleportation circle bound for the last of the Necromancer schools — Moiran.