The Feast of Time Cut Short
-This matter concerns the peace of the entire continent, so I'm afraid I can't share the details. It's top secret.
-...What?
Though he had come under the pretext of a dispatch mission, Simon was also obligated to carry out Kizen headquarters' mission as a spy.
And if what headquarters said was true, then Daniela Villenne—the man he was speaking with right now, Mayrin's own father—might very well be an enemy.
'Ugh.'
Chatting warmly with a man who was being so kind to his daughter's friend, all while harboring those suspicions, was quite the ordeal.
If headquarters' orders were true, would he really have to fight Daniela? And if it somehow came to attacking him, what on earth would he say to Mayrin when he returned to school?
What in the world was the Ivory Tower plotting?
'This is nerve-wracking.'
Simon listened to Daniela's explanation of the Tower of Time with a smile plastered on his face, though somehow it all seemed to slip in one ear and out the other.
Zzz—
Merida, dozing comfortably beside him, was almost enviable.
"There's no need to worry too much, Student Council President."
Daniela spoke warmly, having noticed Simon's stiff expression.
"I heard from my daughter that you can't return to Kizen until your dispatch evaluation is complete. I'll have a word with the Tower Master and see that it's finished on schedule."
"Ah, I'd be very grateful if you did."
That was what he said, but in truth, the dispatch evaluation wasn't the problem—he could only return to Kizen once he cleared headquarters' secret mission.
"Now, one word of caution."
Daniela lowered his voice and gestured with a flick of his fingertips.
"Do you see that man in the gray coat?"
"Ah, yes. The one sitting on the stairs over there?"
It was an event with a strict dress code. While every guest wore tails or gowns, decked out to the nines, only that man Daniela pointed to sat slumped on the stairs in a long coat, pressing a battered flask to his lips.
There was a yellow liquid glistening on his chin, and the liquid gave off a strange stench.
'...Alcohol? Or drugs?'
"You'd best keep your distance from that man."
Indeed, nobody was attempting to approach him. The man himself was completely ignoring the event, besides.
"Who is he?"
"Girdon Bayliss."
Daniela's voice turned ice-cold.
"A man wanted on charges of mass murder."
"...!"
At some point, Merida had woken from her nap and was staring at him.
"...Girdon."
"You know him?"
At Simon's question, Merida nodded.
"Bad man."
Simon pressed a hand to his forehead. He should never have asked.
"Once the Festival of Time begins, under no circumstances go near him."
A deep shadow hung over Daniela's face as he spoke. Muttering to himself—what in the world is the Tower Master thinking, inviting a man like that...—he let out a sigh. Then his kind expression returned, and he regarded the two of them again.
"I'd love to talk more, but I must go greet the other guests now."
"Thank you for all your advice!"
"Think nothing of it. If anything else piques your curiosity, you can simply ask this child. Mird. Come here."
A girl in a white dress, summoned by the name of Mird, walked over.
She was around the same age as Simon and Merida.
"These are important guests. Mind your manners, and see to their every need."
"Yes, Master."
"This is Mird of the Ivory Tower Academy. If you're curious about anything, ask her anything at all."
"Thank you for your concern, Lord Daniela."
At Simon's reply, Daniela cast him a sly, mischievous glance.
Simon smiled awkwardly, then soon lowered his voice to a mumble.
"D-Daniela, sir."
"Hahahaha!"
Daniela withdrew looking thoroughly pleased with himself. The moment he did, Mird—who had been eyeing Simon warily out of the corner of her eye—broke into a bright smile.
"They said kids from Kizen were coming, and it's actually true."
"Looking forward to working with you."
"Mm. I'm Mird. I attend the Ivory Tower Academy."
Then Merida blinked and spoke up.
"What's the Ivory Tower Academy?"
It was a perfectly innocent question, but for the barest instant, Mird's eyebrow twitched.
However, the smile that spread across her face immediately afterward made it hard to notice.
"Hm, I suppose Kizen kids wouldn't know? It's a school run by the Ivory Tower. An institution that pours the Tower's entire wealth and knowledge into cultivating the finest talent on the continent. We're also called Ivory Tower Kids."
It was obvious once stated, but the Ivory Tower, too, had its own educational facilities to rival Kizen.
She looked at Simon.
"Some of you Kizen kids have even transferred into our academy. Their grades, without exception, are at the bottom of the class."
"Ah."
So that was why Serne had dropped the students who caught her fancy back in the first year.
'She kicked them out of Kizen to funnel them into the academy.'
As she talked about the Ivory Tower Academy, Mird glanced around.
"Ahh~ Still, I'm a little jealous of you 'Kizen' kids!"
Her voice suddenly swelled.
"I think our abilities are every bit as good as 'Kizen's', but you see, Ivory Tower Kids are kept strictly confidential. Whereas you 'Kizen' brats—apparently you can just walk outside in your uniforms and people fawn all over you, going on about Kizen this, Kizen that, looking up at you with reverence."
Thud.
Simon's five senses caught the sound of footsteps.
No matter how loudly Mird chattered away, every cell in Simon's body was flashing red, tuned solely to that footstep.
"At the academy, we study only Dark Mechanics. You Kizen kids study seven disciplines, don't you? It seems a bit inefficient, though with nearly two thousand students across the whole school, I suppose it makes sense."
Thud.
"Oh, right! And I heard that at Kizen you call your teachers 'Professor'? How fascinating! Even the way you address people is different!"
"Mird."
A hand came to rest over Simon's lips.
"Could you lower your voice a little? People are watching."
"Oh, come on. Who cares? You're Kizen, after all—"
SHOVE!
In that instant.
A hulking man in a gray coat thrust his face toward Simon.
[...You brats.]
A virulent chemical stench billowed out. From the man's mouth came a sound like iron being scraped.
[Kizen, are you.]
A killing intent that stopped the breath in his throat.
Mird recoiled in terror, and Merida, after a sharp nudge to Simon's arm, hastily dropped her gaze.
Something was off. The message was clear: don't tell the truth.
"..."
Simon lifted his head. Then, with a serene smile, he met the hulking man's eyes.
"Yes. I'm the Student Council President of Kizen. What can I do for you?"
Girdon's eyes flared. Simon's gaze sharpened in kind.
The corners of both men's mouths curled up at the same moment, and without warning, they swung their arms at each other.
BOOOOOOM!
The entire banquet hall shuddered under a massive shockwave. The guests' startled screams scattered everywhere as the two men's fists collided dead center.
"What's going on?"
"A fight!"
Simon, face twisted in a grimace, backed away shaking out his arm.
'Guhh, my arm's about to come off!'
[Careful, Boy!]
Pier's urgent cry rang out.
[That one is far beyond what you can handle!]
Girdon stared vacantly, clenching and unclenching his fist, before letting both arms hang slack at his sides.
[Kizen are dreadful demons.]
Ripples spread across his body. Things like rebar, timber, pipes—construction materials—began to erupt from his flesh. His face, his entire body, bristled with them.
[You will never be forgiven.]
His signature voice, like iron scraping against iron, echoed through the hall.
[Begone!]
The materials jutting from his body began shooting outward in all directions.
KRAKA-BOOM!
CRUNCH!
Screee-ch!
Rebar brought down the banquet hall's pillars, and pipes smashed straight through the walls.
Chandeliers fell from the ceiling, and the floor split open.
Screams erupted from every corner under the sudden indiscriminate barrage, and the surroundings were devastated in moments. Miraculously, there were no casualties—every invited guest happened to be a necromancer with their core unlocked.
"...So that's Girdon's spatial-domain dark magic."
"Uh-hek! Why are you attacking us too, you lunatic?!"
Rumble-rumble-rumble—
And there, dead ahead, was where most of the flying debris had gone.
As the hazy smoke cleared, Merida's figure came into view, having thrown herself out in front of Simon.
"Merida...!"
Hah. Hah.
Her ragged breathing was audible. Both hands were outstretched in an peculiar stance, and a single drop of blood trickled down her forehead, where a piece of debris had grazed her.
[You cursed the objects to bend their course?]
Screeeeeech—
Girdon came shambling closer, dragging his feet.
[Impressive. But even Kizen brats cannot be left alive. When you grow up, you will become dreadful demons just like them. Only thorough extermination will save this world.]
He seized his own jaw hard with his right hand.
Like a scene out of a comic book, the jaw wrenched violently downward and touched the floor. From within it, to the grinding of shifting rebar, an enormous light surged upward.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
Merida's dumbfounded voice rang out.
[Die.]
Every watching eye went wide.
KWAKWAKWAKWAKWAKWA—!
From within the tunnel of his gaping mouth, wreathed in blinding flashes, a rusted train car burst out whole.
'He's completely insane!'
He really meant to kill them.
Simon gritted his teeth and shoved the frozen Merida's shoulder aside, springing forward. The hilt of a sword jutted out from the sub-space he had opened in advance.
'Even if it blows my cover as a Legion Commander, I have no choice!'
Pier's bone was already attached to the hilt. The moment Simon reached to grip the Greatsword of Ruin—
A man leapt in front of him, tails flaring.
'Uncle Daniela?'
Jet-Black erupted from his entire body. Simon could see Daniela spreading his palm open.
<Disertio>
VWOOOOOOOOM!
Simon's eyes went round. The instant the massive train came charging in and touched Daniela's palm, it disintegrated into iron filings and scattered across the sky.
The banquet hall was blanketed in pitch-black ash.
No collision, no impact—the carriage simply ceased to exist the moment it met his hand. Only after scattering several carriages into nothing in that fashion did Daniela glance back.
"Are you hurt?"
He had converted an entire train into ash with a single gesture. Soul having left his body, Simon hurriedly let go of the Greatsword of Ruin and nodded.
[Do not interfere.]
Girdon warned them in a hideous voice.
[Kizen must vanish from this world.]
"Unless you do something to provoke me, I was under strict orders from the Tower Master never to lay a hand on you first. But this crosses the line, Girdon."
Daniela lowered his right hand and raised his left.
Whiiiiiine!
Whiiine!
Countless magic circles of every description unfolded in all directions, spewing smoke, leaking cold, and spitting sparks.
"To lay hands on the Tower's honored guests."
[The Tower's guests? You mean Kizen brats? The Ivory Tower truly has reached its end!]
Flutter!
Daniela finished preparing for battle, and signs of the other invited guests joining the fray began to appear as well.
Girdon stirred up his Jet-Black, roaring with the intent to beat down anyone who came at him—
[...]
Then he lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if sensing something. In the end, he whirled around, coat billowing.
[I shall go on ahead and wait for you.]
"You think you'll escape?!"
As Daniela activated his magic circles, the four elemental dark magics thundered down in a torrent.
It was devastating firepower, but nothing like Girdon's indiscriminate barrage. This was precision control aimed solely at Girdon while minimizing harm to the people and furnishings around them.
The lightning bolts weaved around the tables, and the flames flew past without burning so much as a single thread of the tablecloth beneath.
Sliiiiip!
But Girdon's evasion was nothing short of miraculous.
Space warped, his whole body crumpling like a paper doll, and he tore away, shaking himself wildly. In an instant, he stood before the banquet hall's enormous doors.
"He's heading for the Tower of Time!"
"Stop him!"
Daniela shouted urgently. The Ivory Tower soldiers who came pouring into the hall unleashed their dark magic.
A few of the invited necromancers curled their lips into smirks.
"He might as well be