The Scariest Freshman
Even if Simon terrified them, the TAs still had work to do. The assistant spread her fingers wide.
"There's a reason I make students spar with me first. People who wander around without knowing what their specialty is—like you did, playing student—once you push them to their limit, the answer always comes out. At the most dangerous, most crucial moment, you can see exactly what they're relying on."
"Ah……"
"In your case, you opened with Summoning by your own choice, right? But the moment you started getting cornered, you switched to Magic Combat without a second of hesitation. You've got talent on this side too. Is there really anything left to think about?"
"……"
It stung.
If Simon had simply answered, 'I used Magic Combat because it was closest to hand,' that would have been one thing—but he'd been reinforcing his body with Jet-Black and preparing for close combat even while commanding three skeletons. It had been an instinct, almost reflexive.
"I'm not asking you to decide right this second. Take your time thinking it over~"
"Thank you, Professor."
After Simon left, the assistant let out a quiet sigh of relief inside.
Just then, she spotted her senior TA in the distance, coaching another student.
The senior wore a protective vest, and so did the student sprawled on the floor with a dazed look on his face. Clearly, they'd already gone a round.
The student she'd just advised gave his thanks and departed as well. Now was her chance.
"Waaah! Unnie!"
The assistant sprinted over and threw her arms around her senior.
"That was so scary!"
Her senior grimaced and shoved off the whining, baby-talking junior.
"Every time you kick off the sparring sessions, the students all go crazy demanding matches! What a nuisance."
"……Heeng."
"And anyway, what was so scary about it?"
The junior stretched out her fingertip and pointed at Simon, tattling like a child to her mother. Off in a quiet corner, he was lost deep in thought.
"Ah, Simon—Special Admission No. 1."
"I thought he'd be all cute and cuddly, but he's terrifying. That's the first time a student's made my heart drop in a spar."
Peeling the bratty junior off of her, the senior crossed her arms.
"So, what did you tell him?"
"Something along the lines of: 'Your Magic Combat is insanely good, so why are you obsessing over Summoning?'"
"Hmm."
Truthfully, with just the few summoning spells taught in the first weeks of the first year, there was no way to hold your ground in the immediate duel evaluations.
Only a handful of subjects gave you an early edge in the duels—Curse Magic and Magic Combat being the prime examples. Summoning and Spirit Magic simply needed more time to come into their own.
'Is he agonizing over it because he wants to major in Summoning? Well, I suppose this is the only time in his life he can afford such a luxurious dilemma.'
Talking it out now was pointless. Once he fell into a Low Squad and his desperation sharpened, she figured his thinking would change on its own.
'And if it doesn't, then like any true genius……'
For a moment, her mind drifted back to the image of Simon facing down the Cyclops.
'He might just come up with something entirely new.'
* * *
After the mock duel with the assistant, Simon felt his head had grown even more tangled. It was like two different thoughts colliding inside him.
But at least one thing had become clear.
'In this duel evaluation, skeletons alone won't cut it.'
He slowly replayed the sparring match in his head.
Honestly speaking, his skeletons had been useless. Worse, they'd been turned against him—repurposed by his opponent as a delivery method for her curses.
Something had to change. To survive in this place, he had to keep evolving and growing, without pause.
It was the moment Simon gained his newest challenge.
"Simon!"
Simon, deep in concentration, lifted his head.
Camibarez was waving and approaching with a bright smile. Behind her, Rick and Meilin walked side by side, bickering about something or other.
"Heh, heh, so you couldn't land a single hit?"
Meilin stuck her tongue out teasingly, and Rick ground his teeth in frustration.
"Ugh, I only went easy on her because she's a girl!"
"Sure~ Says the guy who couldn't land a single hit~"
Before Rick could fire back, Meilin skipped away giggling, hiding behind Simon.
"Oh, right—Simon. You said you had something to think over, but next thing I know, you're sparring with a TA?"
"Yeah. Kind of just… worked out that way."
"Did you win?"
Simon scratched his head with an awkward laugh.
"How was I supposed to beat a professor?"
His gaze drifted back toward the assistant.
As it happened, she was looking at him too—and the moment their eyes met, she bolted off somewhere else.
'Why is she…?'
Simon tilted his head, puzzled.
"Ugh—but seriously, isn't this whole duel evaluation thing way too stressful?"
Rick said, scratching his head furiously.
"It's not like necromancers all just walk around fighting all day. There are the scholar types, the researcher types. I get that it's tradition, but come on—it's barbaric."
Camibarez nodded along timidly in agreement. Meilin, on the other hand, smirked with half-lidded eyes.
"You're only stressed because you're weak."
"I said I went easy on her!"
She blew a dismissive snort through her nose.
"Here's what I think: scholar-type or not, if you land in the bottom ten percent for combat ability, you're just weak, plain and simple. Doesn't deserve to be called a Kizen necromancer."
At those words, Camibarez's head drooped dejectedly. Even the little bat wings fluttering behind her sagged.
"Ah!"
Too late, Meilin realized what she'd said and hurried over, sweating buckets.
"N-no! I didn't mean you! You're a vampire, and you're from the great Ursula family!"
"But I… really don't have much confidence when it comes to fighting."
"Don't worry! I'll personally whip you into shape! Count on me!"
While the two girls chattered away, Rick sighed heavily and drifted over to Simon's side.
"Must be nice, though. Not having to worry about the duel evaluations."
"Nope. I'm worried too."
"Heh heh, yeah? Well, I've been doing a bit of snooping around, and word is, everyone's looking for any way possible to avoid drawing you in the bracket—"
In that instant, Simon's eyes flashed.
His right hand snapped up beside his head, and at the same moment something came flying and slammed into his palm.
BOOM!
"Gahk!"
Rick gasped, choking on air. The throw had been so forceful that dust scattered across the ground.
Simon shifted his gaze to the object in his hand. A protective vest.
Thud. Thud.
"Simon Polentia."
Hector was approaching. Behind him, his faction trailed like an honor guard, snickering.
"Put it on. Let's have a match."
"……"
Simon exhaled a short sigh and adjusted his grip on the vest.
And then—
FWOOOOOSH!
The vest shot forward at blistering speed—this time slamming into Hector's hands.
He barely caught it with outstretched fingers, and a bead of sweat rolled down Hector's forehead.
"Get lost. I don't have time to deal with you right now."
"……Why you little—!"
Hector's face flushed red and purple. Veins bulged along his neck, and his fists stained themselves Jet-Black.
Furious, he strode forward—and Simon, far from backing away, lifted his chin and met him head-on.
"Don't. Hector."
At that moment, Meilin darted between them, blocking the path.
"……Know your place. Ivory Tower brat."
Hector said icily.
"You're not a child, so what is wrong with you? Keep pulling this thug crap and I'm calling a professor."
Hector's lips trembled with rage at the interference. Then he spat the words out.
"Nothing but Serne's lapdog."
The instant it left his mouth—
The air froze solid.
Rick's eyes bulged, Camibarez's face drained white, and even Hector's faction flinched and glanced back at him.
But above all, Meilin's eyes went wild. A Dark Flare magic circle spread open across her palm.
'Danger!'
Hector was unarmed, and the Student Protection Period was over. Worse, if she unleashed an attack spell on an unguarded student during class hours, it wouldn't end with a simple disciplinary warning.
Simon sprinted toward her. Hector just stood there, lips curling into a smirk that said, *Go ahead, try it.*
"Stop."
Simon, Meilin, and Hector all froze at once.
At some point, the assistant had slipped between them and was standing there smiling.
"Is something the matter?"
Her approach had been too fast to even register. Even amid the chaos, Simon had swiftly clamped his hand over Meilin's palm, while Hector bowed at a perfect angle.
"Nothing happened here, Professor. Our apologies for the disturbance."
Among the students, Hector was practically a tyrant, but in front of professors and TAs he maintained a firm image as an impeccably polite, well-mannered student.
Hector turned his back, muttering a low 'let's go.' His faction glanced back and forth between the assistant and Hector, then quickly fell in behind him.
"……Hmm."
The assistant turned toward Meilin. Meilin froze for a beat, then hastily bowed her head.
"Hector, Meilin—you're both on warning. Be careful. You very nearly did the one thing Professor Jane hates most."
Thankfully, the assistant let the matter drop and left. The moment the suffocating tension released, Rick let out a long, deep sigh.
"Ugh, I wanna smash Hector's skull in. Damn it. Just one clean hit, that's all I want. That psycho lunatic."
"Meilin! Are you okay?"
"Ah—yeah. I'm fine, Cami."
She said, taking a deep breath.
"I just… lost my composure a little, that's all."
*A little?* Simon thought—and just as he was thinking it, Meilin raised her head.
"Also. You."
"Hm?"
"It's embarrassing, so could you let go of my hand already?"
Simon was still holding her palm. He nodded and released it as if nothing had happened.
"Haah, honestly."
She stepped forward, seized his hand with both of hers, and flipped it over to expose his palm.
From the burn, it was an angry, blazing red.
"Are you actually insane? That was a Dark Flare magic circle and you just caught it with your bare hand?"
Simon only gave an awkward smile. Meilin scowled and yanked his wrist.
"I'm taking this idiot to the infirmary. Be right back."
"Okay! See you soon!"
* * *
They got it treated at the infirmary. Thankfully, the burn was minor.
A bit of salve and a bandage wrap, and the procedure was done; the two of them headed back down to the training hall.
"……Simon."
"Yeah."
"That thing you did—covering my palm. Why did you do it?"
Simon shrugged.
"You're asking the obvious. If the professor found out you were about to cast a spell, it would've been a disaster."
She cleared her throat. Ahem.
"What you did earlier—"
"Thank you, Meilin."
They spoke at the exact same moment. She whipped her head away.
"For stopping me when Hector and I were about to fight."
"……"
"And then when it was *you* nearly fighting Hector, I stopped you. So now we're even again. Ssam-ssam."
Simon chuckled, but Meilin's expression was impossibly conflicted.
"Seriously, Simon. This is exactly your problem."
"……?"
"You're kind to a fault, you know that? It's annoying how attentive you are. But—"
She marched right up to him and gripped his shoulders.
"This time, it didn't work."
"……?"
Then she sucked in a huge breath, squeezed her eyes shut as if making a final resolution, and declared:
"Th-th-thank you!"
And with that shout, she bolted off alone at a dead run back into the training hall.
"……"
Simon, dazed from the shock, broke into a quiet laugh.
[Like father, like son.]
Pier's avatar clicked its tongue in disapproval.
Simon pressed a finger firmly down on the avatar—a silent *be quiet*—