Chaos Reaper
‘W-where did it all go wrong?’
Svera was in disarray.
There was no mistaking it—the Kizen Student Council President had said he couldn't sense spirits. She'd even confirmed that he hadn't chosen any Spirit Studies classes since the first semester of his first year.
That was precisely why she'd been certain he would be unable to attack her spirit constructs, and she had trained relentlessly to concentrate her abilities on her specialty, the Drowner, allowing her to pull in massive quantities of water.
And yet.
‘That dark magic is definitely a Soul Spear!’
Krarararung!
With a roar of thunder, a violet spear of light tore through the sky, and her Drowners were being skewered and destroyed with pinpoint accuracy.
She kept raising Drowner after Drowner, but Simon was making and hurling his spears faster than she could. Naturally, the exchange was a one-sided loss for her—she was the one pouring enormous amounts of Jet-Black and spirit energy into creating each Drowner.
A question abruptly raised its head in her mind.
‘Is that... not a Soul Spear?’
The shape matched the Soul Spear she knew, but the color and crackling effects were different, and above all, the energy she felt from it was alien.
Something she had never once sensed in her entire life.
Pajijijijik!
‘Kgh!’
Out of nowhere, a Chaos Spear that curved sideways slammed through her midsection as it passed. Grimacing, she hurriedly turned her head toward the large monitors in the spectator stands.
[Simon Polentia : 100%]
[Svera Mattheus : 94%]
‘Huh?’
For all its dazzling, ferocious spectacle, the barrier gauge hadn't dropped all that much.
Was the actual power weaker than it looked?
Kwajijijijijik!
Another spear grazed her thigh. She staggered, spread a Jet-Black shield in front of her, and checked the monitor again.
"!!"
[Simon Polentia : 100%]
[Svera Mattheus : 76%]
This time it had only grazed her, and nearly twenty percent had vanished.
And what was with those trajectories? They curved, they bobbed up and down, sometimes they came in a straight line. There was no way to analyze a pattern.
‘What the hell IS that technique?!’
Ever since Simon had produced that violet spear, the tide of the match had completely reversed. The spectators, bewildered by the sudden shift, began to murmur among themselves.
The same went for Benz and Jets, who had already fought Simon once before.
They called out to Mayrin in the competitors' waiting seats.
"Hey, Kizen! What's that spear Simon's using?"
"He never used anything like that against me."
Mayrin frowned and turned back to them.
"Does a mere transfer student get to call people over like they're staff? That's Vice President, if you please!"
"Ah, right, Vice President."
After shooting them a withering glance, Mayrin turned back and allowed herself a dark, scheming smile.
"Looks like you tried to analyze him with scraps of information. No wonder you're struggling. That technique of Simon's has never been used in an official duel evaluation."
The one and only time he'd shown it before a crowd had been in an unofficial match—his duel against Hector.
She swept a lock of hair back behind her ear.
"Honestly, whether he's used it before doesn't even matter. That power is something Simon created anew—something that belongs to Simon alone."
Kwarung!
Krararung!
Every time Simon swung his arm, violet lightning shot forth, lighting up the arena in brilliant flashes.
Svera could feel her head throbbing, her thoughts growing sluggish.
She was even fumbling her magic circles—one mistake after another, something that never happened to her normally.
‘This can't be.’
She sucked in a breath.
‘That technique—it even has a mental-interference curse effect?’
One thing was certain: her position was deteriorating with every exchange. Svera could feel that it was time to gamble everything on a single decisive move.
‘With the Drowners I secretly moved through the waterways—...!’
Whatever else could be said, home advantage was hers.
From an angle Simon couldn't see, two Drowners that had slipped in through the canals burst from the water with a mighty splash! and charged at him simultaneously.
Even in the middle of it all, Simon was still hurling spears straight ahead.
‘Did it work?’
PUOOOOONG!
But the two violet spears he had clearly thrown forward suddenly pierced through the backs of the Drowners' skulls, crossing in an X before burying themselves in the ground.
‘He threw them forward—why are they stuck behind?!’
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had never faced an opponent this impossible to read.
So this was the Student Council President of Kizen.
"Give up, Svera."
Simon said, drawing out a fresh Chaos Spear.
"You and I are a terrible matchup."
"Kgh!"
Having his own words thrown right back at him made her face flush hot with anger.
"...Fine, I'll admit you got one over on me. But I'm the one who wins in the end!"
She opened a subspace and drew out from within it a single old, moss-covered pirate flag.
Then she spread the spirit magic circle she had prepared across the ground and drove the flag down into its center with all her strength.
"The infamous pirate crew of the North Sea—Stekulo."
She smiled darkly.
"Did you happen to know how they toppled six cities and beheaded a lord, and then vanished without a trace?"
"?"
Gurururururung!
Bubbles of spirit-water surged up around the flag, and from atop those bubbles rose an enormous ship made of the same spectral water.
It was a decrepit pirate vessel—its hull riddled with holes, its sails snapped and bent.
-Wooooooo!
Within it, the vengeful spirits of dozens of sailors wailed. The spirit ship drew in all the water from the canals, weaving the skeletal pirate ship and its wailing crew into physical form out of the water itself.
"This is my full power!"
⟨ Svera Original – Shipwreck's Mad Advance ⟩
SHAAAAAAA!
The pirate ship hauled the canal's water along with it as it charged at Simon. The roars of the pirate spirits riding aboard filled the entire arena.
Simon hurled Chaos Spear after Chaos Spear, but the shipwreck did not break. It absorbed the chaos into its massive hull as it pressed forward.
‘Magnificent.’
Simon marveled.
‘I bet this would make a great match against our Elisa.’
Though Elisa, the Spirit Department's representative, would of course start the fight with two or three ghost ships already out, treating them like a basic technique.
"A reward for showing me such splendid dark magic."
Simon detached the chaos magic circle from his waist and laid it on the ground. Then he placed a Spirit Stone atop it to serve as the medium.
Chaos poured into the Spirit Stone, crackling sparks leaping off it again and again.
"It's too late for whatever you're doing now—this is my win!"
Svera's spirit pirate ship was upon him. Simon smiled quietly.
SHEEEOOK—!
Svera, watching from behind, couldn't see it properly.
All she knew for certain was that a massive violet slash had flashed—and then, in its wake—
‘The shipwreck—!’
The enormous hull had been cleaved cleanly in two.
The bisected wreck, its cross-sections exposed, slid apart on either side of Simon and collapsed to the ground with twin booms!
-Kikikikikikik!
And there before Simon stood a ghost wearing a mask like a joker from a deck of cards, frozen in the pose of a gigantic scythe mid-swing.
⟨ Simon Original – Chaos Reaper ⟩
As a Spirit Department major, Svera could only recoil in horror.
‘A Reaper—from someone who abandoned the Spirit Department?! I can't even use one yet!’
Simon raised his right hand.
One of the Chaos Spears embedded in the ground flew up and settled neatly into his grip. The pointed spearhead stretched and flattened sideways, transforming into a scythe.
Sheeok!
Chek!
Simon and the Chaos Reaper both lowered their stances, leveling their scythes forward in perfect unison.
"Let's go!"
Simon charged, and the Chaos Reaper lurking in his shadow surged forward alongside him.
"Block him!"
As Svera spread both arms wide, the spirits of the pirates flew from the bisected ship behind her, hauling water with them and descending on Simon from above.
Sreung!
Seureung!
Simon and the Reaper traded places in a dazzling dance, swinging their violet scythes.
Bound tightly together by dark magic, their coordination was flawless. The water spirits' souls came down like rain, only to be split apart and scattered by the scythes' slashes.
In an instant, Simon closed the distance to Svera.
"Sorry, but—"
Simon kicked off the ground hard.
Cracks split the earth with a crack! as his body rocketed forward. Simon and the Reaper both leveled their scythes at her at the same moment.
"—as Kizen's Student Council President, I can't afford to lose."
Seureung!
Simon and the Reaper passed through Svera in a crossing strike. The vivid X drawn through the air before her blazed to life, drenching the surroundings in dazzling violet light.
"Winner!"
The referee raised his voice.
[Simon Polentia : 94%]
[Svera Mattheus : 0%]
"Kizen's Student Council President! Simon Polentia!"
WAAAAAAAH!
Simon raised his scythe-bearing right arm in ceremony. For the magnificent match he had delivered, the crowd showered him with an enthusiastic ovation.
The barrier dissolved, and Svera, crumpled where she stood, let out a resigned laugh and dropped her head.
"...A total defeat, huh."
Then she saw Simon say something to the referee. Hearing it, the referee gaped in alarm and hurriedly relayed the message to the surrounding staff.
"Svera."
Simon, finished speaking with the referee, approached her. She shrugged.
"Yeah, yeah. Deception is the victor's privilege, so gloat all you like."
"It's not that. Pardon me for a moment."
Without warning, Simon scooped Svera up in his arms and started to run. Flustered, she shouted.
"Wh-what are you doing?!"
"It's dangerous here."
Simon looked back as he distanced himself from the Chaos Reaper.
The Reaper's summon had been released and was melting away—and in its wake, it split into hundreds of tendrils of chaos that surged up into the arena's sky.
A wide-area chaos bombardment spell.
⟨ Simon Original – Chaos Flurry ⟩
A violet rain began pouring down from the heavens indiscriminately. Screams erupted from every direction, but fortunately, the staff who had heard Simon's warning raised the spectator stands' barriers to maximum output.
Simon set Svera down on the ground and then deflected the falling spears one by one with a Chaos Spear of his own.
Svera stared up at the sky, dumbfounded.
‘Thank goodness it ended before I got caught in that.’
She thought it as she watched Simon laboring to knock down the descending chaos.
This guy was strong.
And this was Kizen—the school that had raised him.
‘Starting tomorrow, I'll be able to take classes there too, right?’
Truly, she thought.
She had made the right call, transferring there.
Simon's match was over.
The Chaos Flurry had left the arena pocked with craters and scorched bare, so after a short intermission, the final match was relocated to the neighboring arena.
That was no problem—Moiran had about three more of these canal stadiums. Such things were commonplace in the engagements of necromancer students.
"Great job out there, Simon!"
"Fair's fair—you looted Moiran down to the bones too."
When he returned toward the spectator stands, the transfer students welcomed him warmly. Simon greeted them with an easy smile.
Easy on the surface, at least.
‘I—I feel like I'm dying.’
Since returning from Tarados, he had fought three duel-evaluation-grade matches against the necromancer schools in the span of just two days.
It had been grueling—but he couldn't let it show.
Jane had hammered into him, time and again, that as Kizen's Student Council President he had to maintain dignity in public, and that was a president's duty. So for now he kept up the act, smiling like this much was nothing—when in truth he was half-dead.
"You did well, Simon."
Mayrin handed him a towel and a bucket of ice-cold water.
"Thanks."
Every fiber of his being wanted to sprawl out on the floor and gulp the water down, but he kept one hand pressed to the small of his back and preserved his dignity.
She smiled and winked one eye.
"Working hard, aren't we, Mr. President?"
"...You noticed?"
"Your arms and legs are trembling like leaves. What else would I think?"
Simon smiled quietly and drained the bucket. Perhaps it was just because he was in Moiran, but even plain water tasted like honey.
‘One match left now.’
Simon looked at Mayrin. She tilted her head with a question mark practically floating above it, but soon a smile crept across her lips and she thumped his elbow with her fist.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'll win for sure, so don't worry."
"Haha, no, that's not what I—"
"I'll do my very best, Student Council President!"
She threw him a adorably crisp salute and walked off.
She'd batted it away as a joke, but Simon could see the fine tremor in her fingertips. Smiling, he swept his coat behind him and followed.
The arena where the final match would unfold was right before their eyes.