The Drowner and the Chaos Spear
Something had gone wrong.
Blocking Camibarez with his whole body and stopping her had been the right call — but the state he had so barely calmed down was worsening all over again.
Her breathing turned ragged in every shade and shape, and her face flushed a deep crimson as if blood were rushing to it. Her heartbeat thudded out of rhythm, and worst of all, her eyes were drifting wildly out of focus, exactly as they had when she'd transformed.
"Cami, calm down."
Simon forced himself to wear a composed expression as he spoke.
"Can you hear my voice? Ursula's blood is surging again! Empty your mind and take slow, deep breaths!"
Was she unable to hear him at all?
She squirmed and wriggled in his arms as if trying to break free, but Simon absolutely refused to let go. If she lost her reason like this and lunged at someone else, it would be an outright catastrophe.
"Le-let, let go—"
Her voice trembled violently.
Was she asking him to release her? But her face was deathly pale, and her tone was strange.
"Not until you're back in your right mind! Seal it away and settle Ursula's blood!"
You idiot!
Meanwhile, Camibarez felt her field of vision spinning in wild circles.
This is entirely your fault, Simon!
He was close. Close, and then some — far, far too close.
Ursula's blood had settled ages ago, but the moment she came back to her senses, she found herself in a situation where staying sensible was nearly impossible.
She was held against Simon's chest. And not just anywhere — in the middle of the arena, in front of all these thousands of people.
"Th-that—"
Camibarez could barely hold onto her sanity. Even though she didn't want to be aware of it, Simon's scent kept teasing her nose, and where their skin touched she could feel his warmth. Every time his urgent breath brushed against her shoulder, the back of her neck burned scarlet. Her mouth trembled so hard she couldn't get a single word out.
She whimpered and struggled to wriggle free, but it only made things worse. Startled, Simon tightened his embrace even harder.
There was no way raw strength could beat Simon. And the harder he pressed against her in his alarm, the faster her reason evaporated and the deeper her face flushed.
Without her willing it, hot breath spilled from her parted lips, and her fangs caught the light, glinting as if to announce themselves.
"Calm down! If you bite me, things will get completely out of hand!"
Seeing that, Simon's misunderstanding only deepened.
"I-I-I'm fine…… really! Th-this, let go of……!"
It had been far too intense a stimulus so soon after her vampire state had broken. And now that Simon's scent was filling her nose, it really did feel like Ursula's blood was about to boil over again.
"……And what, exactly, do you think you're doing?"
Just then, a voice cold as frost cut through the air as Jane approached from the side. Then — bop. She smacked Simon squarely on the forehead.
"Professor Jane! Cami's condition—!"
"Step back. The Student Council President is doing an excellent job of making the situation worse."
He had no idea what was going on, but it was Jane's order, so Simon loosened his arms around Camibarez with an uncertain look on his face.
And the moment he stepped away, she — her face now red past all redemption — let out a faint, relieved sigh and crumpled to the ground.
"Are you all right, Scribe Camibarez?"
"……"
She stared blankly into space for a moment before looking up at Jane. Tears instantly welled along her lashes, and with a choked, weeping sound she flung herself into Jane's arms.
Thank goodness.
She seemed to be okay now. Only then did Simon finally breathe a sigh of relief.
From the shelter of Jane's embrace, Camibarez was staring at him with a look that was half embarrassment, half resentment.
"Scribe Camibarez. How are you feeling?"
"Ye-yes! I'm fine now."
Jane asked a few more questions, then suggested she get checked out by the medical staff just in case. Camibarez nodded.
"Cami, are you really okay?"
When Simon came closer, she darted behind Jane and hid, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a sharp little cry.
"Simon, you dummy!"
"?!"
With that parting shot, she slithered away and bolted for the far side of the arena. Simon turned to Jane with a look of helpless bewilderment.
"D-did I do something wrong?"
Jane, clearly unwilling to get involved, quietly turned her head aside.
"Ask her yourself."
Then Camibarez came trundling back toward Simon. She panted a few times, face still scarlet, rolled her big eyes round and round, and shouted:
"But — but thank you for saving me! Simon!"
"……Ah. Sure."
First he was a dummy, now she was thanking him. He had no idea which beat he was supposed to march to, but Simon scratched the side of his head and laughed.
"Cami! Are you okay?!"
Mayrin — who, like Simon, had tried to rush into the arena only to be wrestled to a halt by security — shouted in a voice thick with a stuffed-up nose. Camibarez broke into a bright smile and hurried over to her, and the two of them fell into conversation.
"……"
And up in the stands, Benz sat in his seat watching Camibarez, his feelings plainly a tangled mess. Zetz, the Sierra transfer student seated behind him, thumped him on the head.
"Snap out of it, man."
"……"
Benz closed his eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh.
"I knew I should've said something. Known I had to stop her. My arms were shaking from how much it hurt to watch — but the words just wouldn't come out. And then—"
Benz's gaze shifted toward Simon.
"Simon ran out there without a moment's hesitation."
……Thank you!
He recalled Camibarez's peaceful face as she'd rested against Simon's chest, clicked his tongue with a bitter taste in his mouth, and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.
"……Yeah. I guess a real man has to know when to give up, too."
"Haha! Your opponent was Kizen's Student Council President from the start. What did you think you were going to do against Simon?"
"Why the hell has Sierra been picking fights this whole time, huh?!"
As the two of them kicked off another round of bickering, the transfer students around them burst out laughing and pulled them apart.
"Now, we will begin the second match."
The headmaster of Moiran reached into a box of glass orbs and rummaged around. Standing in the contestants' waiting area, Simon looked across at the Moiran representatives.
It's eating at me. I want to fight that one.
The boy with the stark white hair.
He was still gesturing at empty air with those dim, focus-less eyes. There was no telling what he was thinking, or what power he possessed. He simply seemed fixated on watching the birds cross the sky.
Something about him nagged at Simon's nerves. As if he resembled someone. What is that guy?
"The next pairing has been decided."
The referee took the orb the headmaster had drawn and read out the names one by one.
"Svera Mattheus, student of Moiran. And—"
Simon swallowed hard and waited for the next words.
"Simon Polentia, student of Kizen — to the front of the arena!"
At the long-awaited name of Kizen's Student Council President, the crowd erupted into applause. Simon turned his head toward the Moiran waiting seats. It wasn't the white-haired boy walking out — it was another girl entirely.
Shame. So it's not him.
"Finally, your turn! Go show them what you're made of! Simon!"
Mayrin slapped him hard on the arm and shouted her encouragement. Simon rubbed his arm and laughed.
"Mayrin."
"Hm?"
"……No, never mind. Nothing. I'll do well."
"What? That was anticlimactic. Anyway — go out there and show them your skill!"
Soon the two students of this match entered the arena.
It was Svera, right?
Deep brown hair that fell straight, then curled and kinked upward at the ends. Heavy dark circles under her eyes, and a strange heh-heh of a laugh leaking from her lips.
How to put it — very necromancer-like? There was something vaguely unnerving about her.
Before long the referee ordered the handshake, and the two stepped forward and clasped hands.
"An honor to face you like this, Student Council President of Kizen."
"Likewise. I look forward to it."
"Sorry, but you're going to have to serve as the sacrifice for my showmanship. Transfer students get treated at Kizen according to how well we fight you, you see."
Her tongue flicked across her lips as she moved.
"Tell me — have you ever nearly drowned?"
"……?"
She turned her back, leaving nothing behind but that question.
A girl radiating that peculiar, eerie temperament unique to necromancers. The two fighters put distance between themselves and confirmed the barrier was fully operational.
Then Jane, along with a Moiran professor, came over to the students.
"Your opponent is a student of the Spirit Command Department. I've heard her spirit attunement is exceptional."
"……Spirit Command."
Simon murmured the words, and Jane folded her arms.
"It concerns me that the Student Council President has little experience fighting Spirit Command students, but I believe you will manage well enough."
"Of course, Professor!"
"And one more thing."
Jane's head tilted down slightly.
"I said a single loss in the team matches would be permitted, but a defeat of the Kizen Student Council President is something I will never tolerate. Regardless of how the team matches go — if you lose, everything is over. Think of it that way."
Simon gave a wry smile.
"……Are you only ever this terrifying to me, specifically?"
"Because you're the type who performs better under pressure — the deeper the crisis and the harder the hardship, the sharper you get."
Come to think of it, that did sound about right.
Soon Jane and the Moiran professor withdrew, leaving the two students alone on the field.
"Now then — the Moiran Transfer Evaluation Match! Svera Mattheus of Moiran versus Simon Polentia of Kizen — begin!"
Simon and Svera took their stances. The referee dropped his arm.
"Start!"
Kiiing!
Simon readied a magic circle immediately. He laid down only the barest foundation, then charged straight at his opponent in that same instant.
Spirit Command held no favorable matchup for him. His plan was to press her with martial combat and grind the match out that way.
Svera spread her Spirits around her and began preparing her dark magic, swiftly tailoring her spell to match the exact moment Simon charged.
"Have you ever heard of this?"
She floated her spirit-formed command vessel into the air as she spoke.
"The souls of those who drowned in the water. The Drowner."
Shaaaaaaaah!
The water of the canal city churned and surged, overflowing its banks, then gathered around the command vessel and began holding its shape. It formed the upper half of a human figure suspended in midair.
Just as I thought.
Simon stopped dead in his tracks and stared at it.
Spirit magic combined with water. That's what she's made.
"Get him!"
Kwa-kwa-kwa!
The Drowner came charging with its water-wrought body, arms flung wide as though to embrace Simon — and the image of a water ghost dragging him down into the sea sent a chill racing down his spine.
Stay calm. A spirit vessel can't be struck by physical attacks — but—
Simon clenched his fist, and jet-black energy coiled around it in a flash.
—the water I can hit!
WHOOOOOOM!
Simon's jet-black-wrapped fist slammed into the Drowner. The water scattered in an instant — but the Drowner's true body was completely unharmed.
Shaaaaah!
And the water still flowing through the canal curled around the Drowner once more, restoring its original form.
Hm.
Shaking out his right fist lightly, Simon opened a subspace. A skeleton sprang out and poured itself over his right arm like a picture, transforming into Handgun Mode.
Thud! Thud!
He aimed with pinpoint precision and fired bone rounds — but the Drowner, seemingly without granting itself physical form, simply let the shots pass straight through it.
"Simon Polentia, Student Council President of Kizen. You were a confirmed matchup for me, so I really did analyze you down to the finest detail."
A second Drowner materialized beside her and rose into the air.
"You can't sense Spirits, so you haven't taken a single Spirit Command class since your first semester — am I right?"
The two Drowners lunged at Simon. He retreated, firing round after round, but the Drowners simply sailed through every shot unbothered.
"Then too bad for you! A necromancer who can't use spirit command can never beat me! Our matchup couldn't be worse for you!"
Ordinarily, a spirit vessel only gains physical form at the instant it strikes an enemy. While in its spirit state it cannot be harmed — which, by the same logic, means it can deal no harm in return.
Striking at the moment of materialization was the standard way to counter a spirit vessel. But these Drowners never materialized at all — they could gather water and take shape even while fully in spirit form.
If he were caught properly, he'd be sealed inside a prison of water and drowned.
"Hohohoho!"
She formed a third Drowner, then a fourth. Simon did nothing but flee, and the momentum belonged entirely to Svera.
"You seem to have prepared a tailored strategy."
Svera taunted as Simon, fleeing one-sidedly, skidded to a halt along the ground — screech!
"But battle never flows the way you've imagined it."
"What?"
Crackle! Crackle!
Purple light flooded Simon's surroundings, sparks spitting in rapid succession from his hip. He seized one of them and hurled it forward with all his strength.
KRRRRRRRUMBLE!
Svera turned at a sensation that made every hair on her body stand on end. A violet spear had come flying out of nowhere — and punched straight through the Drowner's core.
"I told you that won't wor—!"
But then.
When the shockwave of the blast had swept past, the Drowner had vanished without a trace.
He destroyed the Drowner?
In that case, that technique was unquestionably spirit command magic. And a spear-shaped spirit command spell would mean……
"H-how can you use a Soul Spear when you can't even sense Spirits?!"
"That's not what it is."
Simon brought his hand to his hip. Like swords drawn from their sheaths, three violet spears rose crackling into existence.
Crackle! Crackle!
Simon flashed a grin and re-gripped the violet spear before him.
"I'm guessing your plan didn't account for these?"
From the waiting seats, Mayrin watched with her arms crossed and shook her head slowly.
Anyone on this continent could have told her that much.