The Strongest Returns

Two hours before entering the Student Council room.

Having safely returned to Roke Island, Simon and Camibarez were escorted straight to the research office of Jane, the Vice Principal of Kizen, by the council's minion ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠staff.

Scratch, scratch—

Jane was still buried in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠work.

She wore her business glasses, quill in motion. A neat, elegant signature settled onto the signature line, followed by a brief notation and set of instructions beneath it.

One page flipped over like clockwork, and the next landed on her desk.

"……"

Simon and Camibarez sat with their backs ramrod straight, hands folded atop their knees, as politely as they could manage.

A heavy silence hung in the air.

The room wasn't even particularly warm, yet sweat prickled on their skin.

Scratch—

At last, she signed the final document, rested her quill on the inkwell, let out a small tired sigh, and removed her glasses. Deep violet eyes fixed steadily on the two of them.

Their spines straightened a little further.

"We've returned safely from our special lesson, Professor Jane!"

"W-We're back!"

Simon spoke first, and Camibarez echoed close behind.

Jane laced her fingers together, her long index fingers tapping lightly against the back of her opposite hand. Tap, tap.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"You're late."

Her mouth finally opened. The voice was quiet, but cold as steel.

"We apologize. There were some complications with the circumstances at our post——!"

"I have already received the reports on the situation there, Student Council President."

Jane cut Simon off and leaned back in her chair.

"Extending a mission period is no great burden for Kizen. However—"

Her violet eyes narrowed.

"This itinerary was part of a simple 'special lesson' curriculum — neither a Mission Assessment nor a field evaluation. It seems to me you involved yourselves at your post rather more than was strictly necessary, beyond what your mentor required of you."

Simon's expression stiffened.

"And one of you failed even to file an extension report."

Her gaze shifted to Camibarez this time.

Startled, Camibarez let out a hiccup.

"If your schedule ended early, you should have returned without delay. Instead, you insisted on going back to school together with a friend, stopped by someone else's post, and got swept up in an incident."

Camibarez's face flushed as red as a ripened apple.

The darling little bat wings behind her back drooped visibly downward.

"You were both overzealous. What if you had been gravely injured, or something far worse had happened to you out there?"

"…We'll conduct ourselves with more care."

"I-I'm sorry."

The two of them apologized quickly.

Jane quietly closed her eyes.

"That said."

"?"

"Speaking as a professor of this academy, my words were harsh."

She looked at the two of them.

"But what you did was right. As necromancers of Kizen, you did not turn your backs on people in peril, and you saved many lives. As wielders of power, you did exactly what you ought to have done."

Simon and Camibarez's eyes went wide.

"You should be proud of yourselves."

Jane held out a certificate stamped with a special lesson evaluation grade of 'A+'.

"But next time, strive to do the right thing while abiding by the regulations."

"Professor Jane!"

Camibarez's eyes welled up. Simon, too, felt a surge of strength as he accepted the certificate.

"Additionally, the special lesson students — yourselves included — have missed quite a number of days of regular classes. The professors and teaching assistants of each subject will be making time to hold supplementary lessons."

She handed them a supplementary class schedule this time.

"It will be a tight race to catch up with the other students."

Simon's eyes swept quickly over the schedule.

Classes were packed in without a single gap — after school, of course, and through the weekends as well.

They had skipped over two weeks of lessons, so make-up sessions were only fair, and he had braced himself for it. If anything, they owed the school gratitude for arranging the lessons at all.

"Who will be teaching the supplementary classes?"

Each student who had been away for the special lessons was enrolled in a different set of courses.

It felt like too much to ask professors to come in even on weekends for the sake of a handful of students.

"By tradition, supplementary lessons are run by the head teaching assistants of each subject."

Jane closed her eyes.

"Though there may be subjects where the professor comes in to teach personally."

Simon assumed Jane herself would unquestionably be the one lecturing for Jet-Black Mechanics.

"Major performance assessments still lie ahead, and final exams will be upon you soon. Your classmates have grown considerably over these two weeks as well. Steady your minds after the fieldwork, focus once more on your studies, and earn excellent results."

Both of them answered with a loud, resounding "Yes, ma'am!"

"And……"

"?"

Jane seemed to hesitate for a moment, then rested her chin on her hand and closed her eyes.

"You will find out naturally soon enough. It would be improper for me to be the one to tell you. Off you go, now."

Simon and Camibarez stepped out of Jane's research office.

Regular classes weren't scheduled to resume until tomorrow, so they had the whole day to themselves.

Simon spoke up.

"Cami, want to stop by the Student Council room on the way?"

Camibarez nodded vigorously.

"Yes! Let's go say hello to Mayrin and Dick! I've been wondering how everyone's been doing."

The two of them crossed straight through the second-year campus and entered the Student Council building.

There they saw figures in sleek black uniforms standing at attention with their hands clasped behind their backs — the Direct Minions of the Student Council, who moved only on the council's orders.

Recognizing the two of them, they bowed respectfully.

"Welcome back, President Simon, Secretary Camibarez."

Then Mojo, leader of the Direct Minions, stepped forward.

"It's been a while, Mojo! Nothing unusual happened at the council, right?"

At those words, Mojo flinched almost imperceptibly, then bowed his head with perfect courtesy.

"No, sir."

"Keep up the good work."

"Thank you for your service!"

The two of them passed the Direct Minions and walked toward the Student Council room. Camibarez tilted her head.

"Come to think of it, Simon. Wasn't something a little off about the minions just now?"

"Was there? I didn't notice."

Simon said this as he pushed open the door to the Student Council room.

Creeeak—!

As the door swung open, the beloved Student Council room appeared before them all at once.

The president's desk, the wide, comfortable sofa, the windows overlooking the campus — everything exactly as they had left it.

"Mmmgh."

And a boy sprawled across the sofa opened his eyes, scratching his tousled hair.

"Huh? Who the—— oh?"

Simon grinned.

"Long time no see, Dick."

Camibarez fluttered her wings in a cheery wave.

"Dick! We're back!"

"Simon! Cami!"

Dick let out a whoop and threw off his blanket, springing up. But his beaming smile of welcome hardened almost instantly.

"Hold on, no, this is no time for reunions! We've got a crisis! While you two were gone……!"

Badadadadak!

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded from outside. The Student Council room door burst open, and a girl with cascading sky-blue hair like flowing stream water burst in, gasping for breath.

"Mojo told me! That Simon and Cami were back—— ah!"

"Mayrin!"

"I missed you!"

But Mayrin's expression was anything but cheerful.

"Why are you two SO late?! We've got a huge problem!"

"?"

There was no time even to catch up. Mayrin shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"Senior Eisel is BACK!"

And so, back to the present.

With no time to savor their reunion, a heavy stillness had settled over the Student Council room.

The current strongest in Kizen, the valedictorian of the third year — Eisel Bringer — had returned.

Which meant, in effect, that the contract left behind by former Student Council President Phantassus had come into force.

Simon rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.

'Eisel was supposed to be Student Council President in the first place.'

But Eisel had been dispatched on a long-term mission from the very start of the semester. Kizen couldn't leave the president's seat vacant indefinitely, and the other third-years had been floated as candidates.

At that point, the former president Phantassus had driven in a stake: it had to be Eisel or Simon — no one else would do. Since the Student Council was, by definition, an organ of student self-governance, the influence of a former president carried more weight there than even the professors' opinions. And so the arrangement became: Simon would serve as president until Eisel returned.

It was a treaty designed to curb the tyranny of the third-years and to cement Simon's hold on the presidency.

And so the bizarre structure continued — a second-year serving as Student Council President — leaving the third-years mired in a strange, gnawing inferiority all semester long.

In truth, no one had predicted Eisel's return would be delayed this long. Nor had anyone predicted that Simon and the council members would run the Student Council this well.

And by the time the phrase 'Simon Polentia, second-year Student Council President of Kizen' had become familiar to everyone's ears——

— Eisel has returned!

Having completed his long-term mission, Eisel was back at school.

Now Simon would have to fight Eisel for the presidency.

"Yeah… I figured those days were just a midsummer night's dream."

Malcolm, head of the Discipline Committee, had appeared in the Student Council room as well upon hearing the news of Simon's return.

He lay stretched out across the sofa, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh.

"The school finally acknowledged the Discipline Committee. It got formal recognition as an official organization. Everything was going too well, you know."

"What are you on about? Why are you the one blubbering?"

Mayrin said, shooting him a glare.

The answer came from Dick.

"If Simon steps down, every organization under his command gets a complete purge — including the Discipline Committee. Eisel will just fill it with the third-years he's friendly with."

It was the truth.

The current 330th Student Council had been built around Simon.

Vice President Mayrin, Secretary-General Dick, Secretary Camibarez — all of them had been appointed by Simon.

It wasn't just Simon stepping down; the entire organization would change. Eisel would fill every post with his own trusted people — and that was the natural, accepted custom.

Simon looked at Dick.

"Any movement from the third-years?"

"Not yet."

Dick shrugged.

"But honestly, the third-years have been in an absolute frenzy ever since Eisel came back. They've always resented our second-year council, haven't they? Once word spreads that you're back, they'll come marching in demanding we vacate the office any minute now."

"I hate it. I HATE it! Everything about this is infuriating!"

Mayrin clutched her forehead and groaned.

"We worked SO hard! We cut back on our study time and our sleep, we pulled all-nighters to run a massive event like the Dark Festival, we kept our public reputation spotless — and now they want to take all our achievements away at the last second? Isn't that going too far? Being a senior doesn't mean they get everything!"

No one had poured more love and effort into this council than the Vice President.

Which made her disappointment all the more visible.

"B-but still!"

Camibarez forced a smile and fluttered her bat wings.

"This isn't goodbye forever, right? We're in different departments, but we'll still see each other all the time! And when we're third-years, we'll be together again!"

Mayrin said nothing, simply pulling Camibarez beside her into a hug. Camibarez in turn gently stroked the head of her heartbroken friend.

And just as the mood had sunk to its lowest——

"No, wait a second! Everybody, think about it!"

Dick shot up from his seat.

"Why is everyone just assuming we're getting kicked out?! Couldn't Simon actually win the duel against Eisel?"

"……"

"……"

The council members all stared at him blankly. Mayrin heaved a deep sigh.

"Maybe we shouldn't pile an impossible burden on Simon?"

Dick broke out in a nervous sweat.

"N-no, well, I mean, probability exists, doesn't it?! All I'm saying is, don't give up hope entirely!"

Kizen was a meritocracy of pure skill, but within its walls, the barrier of 'year level' was absolute.

Whether you survived one more year at Kizen or one less made an enormous difference. The depth of learning and experience gained within that year — and the sheer scale of growth — belonged to a different dimension entirely.

'No question about it.'

In his first year, Simon had been assembling the most basic Ratman skeletons. Now he had built a Lich, forged a Swordmaster Dullahan, and was setting his sights on assembling a Bone Dragon.

Thinking back on his first-year days, he could feel the gulf between year levels down to his bones.

In truth, Simon harbored much the same thought as everyone else.

He had watched the fight of Ballack, the second-ranked third-year, at the Dark Festival.

Frankly, he believed there was no beating him without invoking the power of a Legion Commander.

And now his opponent was Eisel — stronger than even Ballack.

'It won't be easy.'

Just as Simon crossed his arms and sank into thought——

"Mr. President!"

BANG!

The Student Council room door flung open with a thunderous crash, and students wearing gleaming gold badges strode in.

"You in there?"

Everyone turned to look at them with saucer-wide eyes.

'Third-years!'

'Already?!'

A crowd of third-years poured in — and among them were heavyweights belonging to the Top 10.

"Hey there, President."

Leonard, the Summoning Department Representative, flashed a smile and gave Simon a casual wave.

"Good to see you."

Simon returned the greeting and looked ahead.

"Our Eisel has something he wants to say."

With that, Leonard and the third-years parted to either side.

Thud.

Thud.

To the beat of unhurried footsteps, someone was walking toward them through the parted crowd of third-years.

'The current strongest in Kizen — Eisel Bringer.'

Simon rose from his seat as well.

He was a figure spoken of only in whispers and rumor — someone Simon had never once laid eyes on until now.

Setting everything else aside, Simon felt the curiosity of one necromancer wondering what kind of necromancer Kizen's strongest could possibly be.

'What kind of person will he be?'