Simon considered her offer. He knew it was sincere. But what did he want?
A major in Combat Magic. Her class had been undeniably fun—the outdoor curriculum, the constant challenges, the meals under the open sky, and the intense competition. It was grueling, but he could endure it if he viewed it all as training to become stronger.
But...
"I am grateful for such a generous offer, but... to be honest, I must decline." Simon stood and bowed deeply.
She didn’t seem surprised, merely nodding in acceptance. "May I azk why?"
"There is another field of study I wish to pursue more deeply at the moment."
"Hmm—" Her eyes curved into crescent moons. "Alright. Thank you for being zo direct. It zavez me from holding on to falze hope."
"...Ah."
"But that doez not mean I am giving up on you," she added.
"Pardon?"
Her brown hair fluttered in the breeze from the open window. "There iz ztill a whole year before you muzt declare your major, no? I will zimply have to work harder to change your mind."
Simon was dumbfounded. ‘Why would she go to such lengths for me...?’
"And perzonally, I have become curiouz to zee juzt how far you will go." She stood and waved her hand. A Jet-Black teleportation circle spread across the floor. "It iz fine if you are not my dizciple. If you ever need my help, come find me."
"...Thank you, Professor."
"I would appreciate it if you kept thiz between uz. You may go now."
Simon bowed deeply once more, then stepped onto the magic circle.
’Whoosh!’
After Simon vanished, a gust of wind rustled the decorations in the cabin. She sat back down in the creaky wooden chair and gazed out the window with a relieved smile.
"Professor Hongfeng!"
The door burst open and a TA rushed in. "What happened? What about Zimon?"
She smiled and shook her head. The TA bit his lip, his expression resentful. "How dare he reject your offer...!"
"It iz alright, Brad." She patted the TA’s shoulder and looked out the window.
Brad continued, practically fuming, "I do not understand why you have taken such a sudden interest in that student, Professor! Why not offer it to Hector? He has far more talent in Combat Magic! The other four aspirants also have plenty of potential...!"
"A geniuz."
She said it quietly. "I have zeen many geniuzez at Kizen, but I have never zeen ‘that kind of geniuz’ before."
"...Pardon?"
She answered only with a smile.
Simon was the last member of Class A to arrive back at Kizen. He was exhausted, but fortunately, there were still more than two hours until his afternoon class. He returned to his dorm, gave his uniform to the servants to be laundered, and headed for the bathhouse to wash the grime and sweat from his body.
"Simon!"
He ran into Dick at the bathhouse. He had arrived a little later than Simon, but his face was alight with excitement.
"Hehehe! You won’t believe what just happened to me!"
"What was it?"
Dick glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, "So I stepped on the teleportation circle, and suddenly it felt like something went ‘thud!’ and got blocked! When I came to my senses, I was standing in Professor Bahil’s laboratory!"
Simon blinked. "Professor Bahil from Cursology?"
"That’s right!"
"Did anything happen?"
"He just made me clean."
Simon offered a wry smile.
"I heard about it from some of the upperclassmen! A Teleport Scout! Professor Bahil scouted me, didn’t he? Am I going to be a direct disciple?"
Simon broke into a nervous sweat and turned his head. "W-Well... maybe."
"Wow, to think I’d make a connection with one of Kizen’s most powerful figures just like that! You know what being a direct disciple means, right? It’s a golden ticket! I heard they even overlook disciplinary actions or expulsions if the supervising professor vouches for you!"
"That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard all year."
At the sudden interruption, Simon and Dick turned. Hector and two of his cronies were standing there, blocking the path.
"A damn commoner with nothing to his name becoming Professor Bahil’s direct disciple? Even a stray dog would laugh."
His friends snickered. A slow smile spread across Dick’s face as he rose to his feet.
"Oh my. Looks like the young master is a little salty. Is it because you have to be the best at everything, but it seems Professor Bahil has his eye on me instead of you?"
Hector took a step forward. Up close, he was immense, his entire body a mass of solid muscle. "Watch your mouth, you merchant trash."
"As merchant trash, I know your type all too well." Dick waved his wrist mockingly. "I heard you even dissed Meirin in Combat Magic class. You think you’re the only one in the world with a sob story? You’re just another scrub, you bastard. You act like passing the Moore family’s training is some kind of grand achievement."
Enraged, Hector shot out his right arm. A Jet-Black magic circle formed in his palm, and an invisible force slammed Dick into a pillar.
"Aah!"
"There are words a lowborn bastard has no right to utter." With bloodshot eyes, Hector swiped his arm to the side. "Just die here, you son of a bitch."
It was a curse. As Dick clutched his throat in agony, the other students in the bathhouse began to murmur and back away.
"Ugh, hahaha!"
Even then, Dick grinned and shot Hector the middle finger. Hector’s expression turned to ice.
"C-Calm down, Hector!"
"Hey! This is crossing the line! Using a curse outside of class is...!"
His two friends tried to intervene, but Hector sent them sprawling with an irritated shrug of his arm. He was about to form a magic circle in his other palm when the sole of a foot blurred toward his face out of the blue.
Hector barely managed to cross his arms to block the blow. He skidded on the slippery floor, dropping to one knee. The impact shattered the curse he was casting. Freed from the pain, Dick scrambled back, coughing and sputtering.
Simon landed lightly on the floor, his eyes blazing.
"There you are. I was wondering when you’d step in," Hector growled, pushing himself up. Jet-Black erupted from both his hands. Simon channeled his own into the ring on his finger, his hand closing around a virtual lever.
The air crackled with tension. In that touch-and-go moment—
A wooden bucket flew through the air and shattered at Hector’s feet, sending splinters everywhere. Hector and Simon flinched. Other students cried out in alarm.
"...It’s noisy."
A man who had been sitting in the bath stood up. Water streamed down a back covered in a horrifying number of scars.
"Do you all really want to die?"
Simon knew him. His eyes widened in recognition.
’Kajan!’
It was none other than the silent, ghost-like figure from his own room.
"...Kajan Edvalt."
Hector lowered his arms, his eyes fixed on the newcomer. "I heard the rumors. I’m surprised you’re still at this school."
Kajan silently cracked his neck. Each movement produced a sickeningly loud pop, a sound that seemed impossible for a human body to make.
"Hector!"
"B-Be careful. That bastard’s got crazy eyes."
His friends rushed to stand in front of Hector, forming a protective barrier.
However...
"Let’s drop it."
The words from Hector’s mouth were unexpected. His friends looked back at him, bewildered.
"You’d better watch yourself, too," Hector said, his eyes still on Kajan. "There won’t be a second time."
With that, he strode out of the bathhouse. After a moment of stunned silence, his friends scrambled to follow.
"Dick!"
Simon rushed to Dick’s side. "Are you okay?"
"It’s nothing," Dick chuckled. "The curse he used was just for show. As if that bastard has the guts to do any real damage."
With the confrontation over, Kajan sank back into the water and closed his eyes. The other students in the bath gave him a wide berth.
Simon stood up. "Kajan. Thanks for your help..."
"You two are noisy, too," he said without turning around. "Get lost."
A faint smile touched Simon’s lips. ‘So he isn’t a bad person after all,’ he thought.
The incident passed without any major consequences. Dick later admitted he had been trying to provoke Hector into getting a demerit. Of course, since Simon had also attacked him, any disciplinary action would have affected them both, so he’d cleanly abandoned the plan.
When Simon apologized sheepishly, Dick just laughed.
"It was way better that you stepped in! I felt so damn refreshed when you kicked him."
Half the reason he had provoked Hector was genuine anger, and since it was still the student protection period, a demerit wouldn’t have been a major blow anyway. Hector had likely known that, too.
After their showers, they found their magically laundered uniforms waiting outside their dorm room. They quickly changed and managed to get through their final class of the afternoon without further incident.
By the time their schedules were complete, dusk had fallen. Simon and Dick were walking back to the dormitory after dinner.
"Ooof! It’s finally the weekend!" Dick shouted, stretching his arms high. "Simon, what are you doing this weekend?"
"The weekend? I don’t really have any plans."
"Hey, you can’t be like that! At Kizen, how you spend your weekends is crucial."
"From the sound of it, you already have a plan."
Dick nodded. "Honestly, my weekend schedule is more important than my weekday classes. I’m heading down to Rochest."
Rochest was Kizen’s subsidiary city, a bustling town that had grown to serve the academy’s staff, students, and servants. Known as a haven for necromancers, it was filled with restaurants, inns, and shops catering to their unique needs. It wasn’t uncommon to see Kizen students working part-time jobs there to cover the cost of class materials.
On weekends, the city was flooded with students, its population swelling dramatically. When Kizen students talked about hanging out, they meant going to Rochest.
"What are you going to do there?"
"Business planning," Dick replied, his tone suddenly serious. "The monthly stipend Kizen gives us isn’t enough to live on. And it’s not like I’m some academic genius who can get a scholarship. I need to leverage my skills, and fast."
Simon nodded. That was Dick all over—always thinking one step ahead.
"You should probably figure out a source of income too, Simon. The professors only provide materials during this protection period. After that, the monthly allowance won’t come close to covering the insane cost of materials for Kizen’s classes. That’s why all the upperclassmen have their own revenue streams."
"Hmm, really?"
So he had to be self-sufficient outside of class, too. Life here was anything but easy. And since Simon was interested in Summoning—a notoriously expensive field—he would definitely need a plan.
"Hehe, or you could just wait for me to get my business off the ground in Rochest. I might be able to find a job for you."
"No. It’s better if I earn the money I need myself."
"...Oh, so you’re sharp when it comes to money."
Before heading into the dorm, Dick announced he was getting a head start on his preparations and slipped away toward Rochest. Leaving Kizen on a weekday was technically forbidden, but given the academy’s liberal culture, it wasn’t a major issue as long as you didn’t get caught.
Simon entered the dormitory alone. To get into a weekend mood, he bought a snack from the commissary and went up to his room. He had hoped to properly thank Kajan, but the room was empty.
Alone, Simon sat on the spacious floor and opened his snack. It was a box of six fluffy mini chiffon cakes. He popped one into his mouth. It was delicious.
He was savoring the rich, buttery flavor when he felt a pair of eyes on him. Cautiously, Simon shifted his gaze toward the window.
Hanging from the sill was a girl, blinking slowly.
’Lady... Lady Nephthys...?’
This was the fourth floor.

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