Monster Stew and the Whispers of Survival
'Ughhhh….'
Jessica, sprawled on the floor alongside the scattered bones, couldn't bring herself to get up for a long while. She was mortified. Utterly humiliated.
She'd let the man get under her skin, grown rash and impatient, and ended up staking everything on Magic Combat — which was exactly how she'd wound up like this. No, if she was honest, even that had been precisely what her opponent had steered her toward all along. With every one of her techniques sealed off, the only thing left to her had been to clench her fists and charge like a moth into a flame.
Beaten in skill. Beaten in the battle of wits. The gap between them had been that wide.
'So this is how I end up in the Low Squad. Honestly, maybe it's for the better. The upper brackets would just be crawling with monsters like him anyway.'
She was heaving sigh after sigh over that flimsy bit of self-consolation when Simon walked up to her.
"You okay?"
He dropped to one knee and extended his hand with a warm smile.
"……"
Jessica stared blankly, her eyes flicking between his outstretched hand and his smiling face. And then, all at once, a flood of emotions surged up and her eyes went hot.
"Y-you…."
"?"
"You insufferable little jerk!"
Jessica bawled, her voice cracking. Simon flinched and recoiled.
"You think you're the only special person in the world, huh? Huh? You condescend to me right to my face! You win the match! And then you've gotta play the nice guy at the end too? You're the worst!"
"I-I wasn't, I just…."
"You're worse! Waaah!"
Weeping loudly, she fled the arena.
Simon stood dumbstruck for a moment, watching her retreating back.
"Student."
The referee approached just then.
"We have the next match to run, so please clear the floor."
"Ah, yes. Of course."
Simon scratched his head, sheepish, and asked the referee casually, "Um, was I a bit… harsh back there?"
The referee laughed heartily, as if the question were absurd. "That's Kizen for you! Haven't seen a clean, satisfying match like that in a while. Haha!"
It was the first time in his life the phrase "that's Kizen for you" had left such a bad taste in his mouth.
As Simon turned to leave, the female custodian mopping the floor murmured quietly, "Honestly? It was a bit harsh."
"……Haha."
Simon covered his face with one palm. He'd been so wrapped up in his own situation that he hadn't spared a single thought for how she might be feeling.
'I should go apologize to her in person tomorrow.'
All that remained now were the midterm exams.
And the weekend that preceded them was pure hell. After hearing Dick's intel, Simon had gone to line up for the library at four in the morning — only to find a crowd already milling around the entrance. Two more hours of waiting passed before the doors opened and a monstrous bottleneck ensued. Some students launched themselves over heads by stepping on plates of Jet-Black or sprinted up the walls, while a handful of aspiring Spirit Magic majors simply slipped straight through the stone using Spirit Transformation.
The seats filled within twenty minutes, and Simon barely managed to snag a corner desk before it was too late.
Then came the studying. Study, study, study.
Throughout exam season the library stayed open around the clock, leaving nothing to think about but the material itself. Buried in that building from dawn to midnight, the weekend flashed by like lightning — and the midterms began.
Eight subjects, two per day, two hours each.
"Eight, number two!"
"Number two! Aaaah, I got it right!"
"Hey, isn't this one number four? That's where the resistance forms and blocks the mana flow."
"Are you an idiot? It's a direct-channel formula — where would resistance come from?"
"Ack! Oh, I didn't realize it was direct-channel…!"
Every time an exam ended, students swarmed around the academically gifted — Meilin chief among them — to compare answers. Simon found his ears drifting over of their own accord, but he had no time to bother with self-grading. He went straight back to the library. Study. Studying was the only way to survive.
Everyone said exam season was hell, but Simon didn't find it so bad. For once, everyone was moving toward a single goal without worrying about anything else. No sabotage, no backstabbing — just each person climbing on the strength of their own growth alone. He liked that atmosphere of honest competition.
And then—
"FREEDOOOOM!"
The final day's exams — Holy Defense and Magic Combat — came to an end.
The instant the closing bell rang, every student in the hall broke into beaming grins and threw both arms into the air. Dick clamped his quill between his teeth, climbed onto his desk, hiked his shirt up to flash his belly in a triumphant ceremony, and was promptly smacked down by Meilin.
While everyone else writhed in the joy of liberation, Simon quietly leaned back against his chair and let the moment linger.
'I really did give it everything I had.'
"Hey. Hey, Simon."
Meilin came over, hands behind her back. "How'd you do on Summoning? I'd like to keep seeing you around Kizen, you know~"
At her teasing question, Simon let out a long breath.
"Honestly, if I could go back one month, I'd smack myself upside the head."
"Huh?"
"Because I finally understand how flippant the words out of my mouth were."
Surpass Meilin's Summoning score of 85.
He'd assumed ten points would be an easy enough margin to close — but those ten points turned out to be an impossibly vast distance.
'…Simon.'
Camibarez watched him with worried eyes. If Meilin won and tried to force Simon out of the academy, she resolved she would beg Meilin on her knees if she had to — anything to stop the disaster.
Meilin, for her part, was flustered too. She'd thrown the topic out as a joke. Why was he answering like it was a funeral?
"Don't tell me… you tanked the Summoning exam?"
"No."
Simon smiled serenely. "I'm just saying — the conclusion is that I'm going to win."
"Wha— hey!"
Meilin burst out laughing, and the mood lightened again. As they chatted about where to go for the weekend and what to eat, Dick leaned in smoothly.
"Sorry to interrupt the vacation planning, but there's some big news. Want to hear it?"
"What is it?"
Dick glanced carefully around, checking that no one was listening, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur.
"After this weekend, next week, the entire first year might be shipping out to an island. Island Survival."
At those words, Meilin's face went grave in an instant, while Simon and Camibarez exchanged puzzled looks.
"What's that?"
Dick curled his fingers with an eerie grin. "They dump the entire first year on an island crawling with monsters, and you survive for four days. They also call it the Island Survival Evaluation."
"W-we have to what?"
Camibarez shuddered and rubbed her arms briskly.
"Once you're on the island, food and shelter are entirely your own problem. You hunt monsters to earn points — and you can even jump other students and shake them down for theirs. And true to Kizen form, the bottom of the barrel gets expelled. Obviously."
"Oh…."
While Camibarez trembled with fear, Simon's eyes were glittering.
"What's wrong with you now?"
"No, it's just…" He couldn't hide the upturn at the corners of his mouth. "Doesn't that sound incredibly fun?"
"…You're serious?"
"Yeah! Camping on a deserted island, hunting, fending off monster attacks — survival! Wow, I love that kind of thing."
Simon had plenty of that exact kind of experience from the rugged mountains of Leshill. Dick and Camibarez, meanwhile, wore expressions of total incomprehension.
"But Dick. Is that intel even reliable?" Meilin cut in. "How do you know Kizen's schedule?"
"Whoa, whoa, not so fast." Dick waved his hands. "Obviously it's not a hundred percent. It's still in the speculation stage."
"Based on what?"
"For starters, the henchmen have been quietly hauling crates of 'Tongue Pads' out of storage."
The Tongue Pad was the bracelet students wore on their arms during large-scale practicals like the Island Survival — the device used to track points and other readings.
"And for the past two days, Kizen HQ's entire teleportation team has transferred over to the school for a major operation. Word is they've brought in magic circle materials from Rochest in bulk. Some professors have even booked vacations for next week — next week, when classes are obviously scheduled. Suddenly, a vacation? You do the math."
The sheer plausibility of it all left them wide-eyed. Dick crossed his arms and preened. "Heh heh. In this cold, cruel world, an information network like this is just table stakes!"
"That's amazing, Dick! How on earth do you keep up with everything at Kizen?"
At Camibarez's admiring gaze, Dick's chin lifted higher. "Well, my core intel channels are classified, so I can't say much. But basically, I make a point of getting friendly with every henchman at Kizen. They find me a bit much at first, but I just trail after them calling them 'big bro' and 'big sis,' slip them pocket money now and then, buy them meals. And as a Kizen student, I lend my name here and there when the occasion calls for it."
Simon nodded. Hanging around Dick, he had indeed noticed that most of the henchmen spoke to him casually or treated him with remarkable ease — something they rarely did with Kizen students.
"Honestly, the other noble-born kids treat henchmen like servants or errand-runners and couldn't care less. But henchmen are the true wellspring of information."
"Yes, yes, you're ever so impressive."
Meilin turned away with a derisive sniff.
This time Simon spoke up. "So if this practical really is happening, what should we be preparing?"
"Hmm, good question. Same as usual, I'd guess — gear up like you would for the Duel Evaluations. Oh, and…" Dick smacked his knee. "Survival skills!"
"Huh?"
"You know, that stuff. Building shelter, making fire, field-dressing game, telling edible herbs apart from poisonous ones."
Both girls' faces darkened rapidly.
"Th-that's right. We might… have to eat monsters."
For the first time, the ever-confident Meilin wavered visibly. Camibarez went pale.
"…Could we maybe just go hungry for a few days instead?"
"You think it'll be that easy? And if you don't eat, you won't have the strength to withstand monster attacks — or other students coming for your points. You'll have to eat to survive."
Having grasped the full situation, the two of them grew steadily more ashen.
Meanwhile—
"…Man, this is gonna be so fun."
Simon's face was positively radiant. The other three could only stare at him in disbelief.
"That does it," Meilin declared. "This weekend, we're going down to Rochest to eat monster meat. Right now."
Dick snorted. "Eating the stuff they sell in shops won't fix anything. Chef-prepared dishes and what you eat out in the field are worlds apart."
"Ugh, whatever! At least it'll get my palate used to it!"
"Come to think of it…" Simon said, and everyone's eyes turned to him. "You remember that meat stew we had at Professor Hong Peng's cabin?"
"Oh! That one! That was SO good!"
"I think about it sometimes too," Camibarez added.
Simon grinned slyly. "Well, apparently that stew was made with monster meat."
Three pairs of eyes went wide as saucers.
"Hey!!"
Meilin lunged across the table and seized Simon by the collar, shaking him. "Contact Professor Hong Peng! Please! Ask her for the recipe! She's extra fond of you, isn't she?!"
She rattled him back and forth with pleading eyes.
Simon gave a wry smile. "I can't promise anything, but I'll write her a letter."
"You promise? Really?"
"Please, Simon, please!"
And then, the very next day—
Hong Peng's reply truly did arrive.