The Flag of the Crossed Blades
With the banquet safely behind them, the official undead exhibition finally opened its doors the following day.
Shun gathered his family and everyone who had helped organize the exhibition for the opening ceremony. Simon, attending as a bodyguard, took no part in the proceedings himself; he stood guard a short distance away from Shun, watchful and silent.
Whew. This is harder than it looks.
He had spent the time before the afternoon ceremony practicing Bone Armour.
His thoughts drifted back to the conversation he'd had with Pier during yesterday's training.
"By the way, Pier — could I use Bone Armour with your legionified skeletons too?"
"Nothing is impossible. But don't even dream of it for a while yet."
"What? Why not?"
Pier's split body had been laughing at the time.
"Because you'd pick up bad habits."
Pier was his mentor as much as anything else. Everything the ancient skeleton had ever told him had served Simon well, so he had dutifully kept his focus on mastering Bone Armour with ordinary summon-type skeletons.
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Thunderous applause pulled Simon out of his reverie. The opening ceremony had finally come to an end.
The people on stage drifted off in clusters, chatting among themselves, and Simon moved up to Shun's side to resume his guard.
"Simon! Got something on your mind?"
"Hm? No, nothing at all."
Just then, the emcee who had been running the ceremony turned his gaze toward Simon. When Simon smiled back uncertainly, the man boomed out loud enough for the whole venue to hear.
"Now that I think of it, we have a student from Kizen attending our exhibition! Did you all know that, ladies and gentlemen?"
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Naturally, we can't pass up the chance to hear from the very best this field has to offer! Now then! Please welcome our Kizen student to the front!"
WaaaAAA—
A roaring cheer erupted.
Simon shot Shun a helpless look. The emcee's eyes had found Shun as well.
"You'll be fine, won't you, Count?"
Simon wore the expression of a man begging to be rescued. But Shun just grinned cheekily, bared his teeth, and gave Simon a shove between the shoulders.
"Of course he'll be fine!"
"And now, a bonus interview! This way please, our Kizen student!"
So this is how it's going to be.
Simon was pushed out onto the stage with a sour look on his face.
Wow.
There were so many people. The exhibition must have been quite the hot topic even within Blue Harbor.
"A brief self-introduction, please!"
The emcee held out a mana-amplified speaking orb to Simon — though the man himself hardly needed one, his natural voice carrying to every corner of the venue without it.
"I'm Simon Polentia, a first-year at Kizen hoping to major in Summoning."
"Ah, but you've left out the most important part!"
The emcee wagged his index finger with a playful wink. Simon let out a small laugh and continued.
"I have the honor of attending Kizen as Special Admission No. 1."
A buzz went through the crowd!
With that single line, Simon felt the way people looked at him change completely.
"You've been guarding the Count here, so you must have been inside at least once. This exhibition! What did you think?"
Simon had gotten a feel for the atmosphere by now.
For all that it was called an opening ceremony, this was nothing like stiff aristocratic formality — it crackled with the energy of a festival. That freedom was probably just what you'd expect from a resort island.
Then I should match the mood, shouldn't I?
"I can say with confidence that it's the finest undead exhibition I have ever attended."
Granted, it was the only undead exhibition he had ever attended.
"Blue Harbor is one of the very few places with an independently evolved ecosystem. The fact that this ecosystem has been preserved intact, untouched and thriving under the Old One's name — as a necromancer, I'd call it a stroke of heaven-sent luck. The undead crafted from this island's creatures looked to me like technology from twenty years in the future."
Sharper diction. Punchier phrasing.
"In particular, I highly recommend you don't miss the Overlord on the final floor."
"Oho! It seems our guest has his eye on the Overlord himself!"
Simon fired back at the emcee's joke without missing a beat.
"I was so impatient while standing guard that I actually asked a staff member about the price."
"Bold of you! So, er, how much was it...?"
"Starting bid of ten thousand gold. I gave up."
HAHAHAHA!
The whole ceremony brightened at once. Emcee and student volleyed back and forth at a rapid clip, and the energy in the venue climbed with every exchange.
Tap! Tap!
Behind them, the head butler was tapping his wristwatch in an unmistakable gesture. The emcee, who had been tormenting Simon with mischievous questions about whether he had a girlfriend back at Kizen, snapped back to attention and wrapped things up.
"Ah, would you look at the time! The new undead exhibition opens in thirty minutes — we ask for your enthusiastic interest and support! And now! One more big round of applause for student Simon, who so graciously took the time to join us for this interview!"
Fervent applause burst out from every corner of the hall.
"The honor was all mine. Thank you."
Simon bowed to the crowd and returned to Shun's side. The Count chuckled and thumped him on the leg.
"Simon! You're a better talker than you look!"
"...Than I look? Was that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Hahaha!"
Before long the exhibition hall opened, and streams of visitors filed in to admire the displays.
Shun and Simon walked the floor together, greeting the guests they hadn't managed to meet at the second day's banquet and showing visitors around.
The morning of the fourth day.
Today's schedule, like yesterday's, promised to be spent almost entirely at the exhibition hall. Simon rode in a carriage beside Shun, headed there early in the morning.
Simon, who had been looking out the window, folded his arms.
"The weather's turned overcast."
"It has. Maybe that's just as well — could keep the crowds coming to the exhibition."
A thick fog blanketed the entire beach. The tourists who had actually come out to swim were standing around bewildered by the unexpected conditions.
"Where did all this fog come from, out of nowhere...?"
"It isn't even raining."
"I guess we're stuck inside all day, then?"
Blue Harbor's caretakers were already making their rounds. They announced that the sea fog was severe enough to swallow the sand itself and that swimming was restricted for the day. Grumbling, the tourists began filing off the beach.
"Right, let's go, let's go."
Even the people lounging under the parasols picked themselves up and headed toward town.
"Hey. Hey, do you see something weird over there?"
"Yeah, I'm looking at it. The fog."
"No — past the fog, over there... what is that?"
"Quit making things up and let's go. I'm starving."
But the murmur along the beach kept growing louder. Soon it was laced with screams and frantic shouts to run.
Shaaaaaaa!
It all happened in an instant. Rending the thick fog, a colossal sailing ship — so enormous it made jaws drop — emerged into view.
At the top of its mast, a flag snapped in the wind: two crossed blades beneath a warped skull.
The meaning of that flag needed no interpretation.
"P-Pirates!"
"PIRATES!"
The peaceful seaside plunged into instant panic. Screaming, the crowd stampeded for their lives.
KA-BOOOOOM!
Cannon fire shook the heavens. Shells launched from the warship erupted against the tall pillars of the city's buildings. Stone structures crumbled in cascades, and flames took hold of the wreckage.
WHUMP! KRAK!
Some shells fell along the shoreline, hurling up vast fountains of sand that swept bystanders off their feet.
"Take cover! Take cover!"
Countless shells screamed through the fog and wind. In moments the beach and the town had been churned into scorched ruins and set ablaze. Soon the enormous ship was gliding right up to the shore.
GRAAAAH!
Sand spraying in its wake, the pirate ship ground down onto solid ground — and pirates began swarming down the rigging ropes.
"Keh-heh-heh!"
On the deck, slouched in a chair, sat a man with a long, straggly beard, snickering to himself. He raised a communication crystal and spoke.
"Ships Two and Three — wrap around the island from the flanks and land! Not one soul leaves that island alive!"
— Yes, sir!
Through the fog, sails of identical size could be seen fanning out to either side.
The man rose to his feet. Around him, the pirates fell back in unison and bowed their heads in deference.
"Blue Harbor. A fine island."
Shing!
He drew the blade at his hip and roared.
"What are you waiting for?! All of you, land! Sweep them clean — leave not a single one!"
"WAAAAAAAAGH!"
The cannon thunder shaking the sky sent Simon and Shun sprinting out of the exhibition hall. Somewhere nearby, someone was mumbling in stunned disbelief.
"Good heavens..."
The colossal pirate ship had arrived shrouded in sea fog, and it was raining shells across the entire city. Blue Harbor was turning into a sea of fire.
"These are no ordinary band of pirates."
The head butler spoke through a cold sweat.
"The size of the ships, that flag — pirates of the Sea of God's Jewels. Those men would never come to peaceful waters like this. How...?"
Shun, pale with fright, clutched at Simon's sleeve. Simon covered Shun's hand with his own and patted his back reassuringly.
"The base commander is here!"
A man in uniform, medals jangling on his chest, pushed out of the exhibition hall.
"...Impossible."
He murmured it with a look of hollow disbelief.
"How can a pirate ship get all the way to the shoreline? What in the world are the offshore outposts doing?!"
The commander hurriedly pulled a communication crystal from his coat.
"Outpost! Respond! Outpost!"
But the line stayed silent. He frantically spun the crystal through channels, reaching out to other posts.
"This is the base commander! Respond immediately!"
None of the three naval units guarding the sea routes answered.
"C-communication's down? Is it the fog?"
"More likely they've been taken out."
Simon said it with a grim face. The commander turned sharply, startled that someone had cut in — and his eyes went wide when he saw Simon's uniform.
"K-Kizen...!"
"What do you mean, 'taken out'?"
At Shun's question, Simon let out a small sigh.
"It means it's already happened."
Blue Harbor Naval Headquarters.
"Gwahk!"
"Hurk— hurk!"
Armed soldiers were collapsing one after another, frothing at the mouth. The entire building was swallowed in thick green smoke.
Blue Harbor Naval Second Barracks.
"What the hell did they put in the food...!"
"Ghhk!"
Here, the soldiers toppled with black liquid streaming from their lips. A few fought to hold on, but the artificial slimes that had been oozing along the floor crawled up and swallowed them whole.
And last of all — the Blue Harbor Naval Third Barracks.
This one was drenched in blood. Soldiers lay sprawled with their bodies bent at unnatural angles, the walls scarred everywhere with the marks of desperate fighting.
And there.
Amid the corpses of more than a hundred soldiers, a man stood leisurely smoking a cigar.
"Honestly, it would've been better for everyone if you'd just taken the poison quietly, wouldn't it?"
His dress uniform was soaked through with blood, yet the man didn't so much as blink. He raised a communication crystal.
"The ships?"
— All burned.
"Not one person leaves this island. Especially—"
Blue Harbor's strongest necromancer curled his lips into a chilling smile.
"Count Shun and the Old One's family. No matter what it takes, make sure they're taken alive."