After a moment of stunned silence, Meirin burst out laughing.
"Ahaha! What? Simon? There's no way!" She bent over, howling with laughter. Kamibarez and Dick exchanged bewildered glances.
"But what Kami said isn't entirely baseless, is it?" Dick mused. "The timing more or less lines up."
"No way," she said, looking up with a deadly serious expression. "NO, There's ab-solutely NO WAY! It's NOT Simon."
"R-Really?" Kamibarez asked timidly.
"First of all, his build and height were completely different, and so were his voice and intonation! Ugh, it's ridiculous that I even have to explain this." She quickly wiped away a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. "You can just tell by looking. Simon has a certain vibe, right?"
"What kind of vibe?" Dick asked.
"You know, the kind of vibe that immediately comes to mind when you think of Simon. Proper, friendly, diligent, and smart."
Kamibarez jumped in, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes, that's right! He's kind! And gentle! And considerate! And friendly! And sometimes, he's tough and passionate...."
"Uh?"
"A-Anyway! So what's your point?!"
Meirin crossed her arms, her expression grave.
"But Pion... how should I describe him? He's incredibly intense. He was so scary I couldn't even look him in the eye."
"R-Really, Meirin?"
"Yeah. If I had to describe the vibe he gave off..." She thought for a moment before continuing. "A tyrant. He seemed like the type of person who'd flip out and kill everyone if things didn't go his way." "Oh..."
Kamibarez tried to picture Simon in the role Meirin had just described. The two images clashed so violently that it was almost comical. "I don't think that's him."
"See? Explaining this is a waste of time," Meirin insisted. "Hmm..." Dick mused, crossing his arms. 'Then again, if you watch him closely, it's not like he's completely devoid of that charm.'
"Anyway! More importantly!" Meirin's head snapped around. "What is taking Simon so long?!"
Anxiety etched itself onto her face as she scanned the long line forming at the camp. At this rate, their evaluation window would close before they even had a chance to present their zombie. "Sh-Shouldn't we go look for him?" Kamibarez fretted. "I was about to, but I gave him ten minutes," Dick said with a shrug, then pointed. "Looks like that won't be necessary, though."
In the direction he indicated, Simon was sprinting toward them, drenched in sweat. "Simon! Over here!" Meirin waved frantically. "God, that idiot is going to be the death of me! If you escaped, what took you so long?!"
"Simon! Thank goodness!" Kamibarez cried, relieved. "Are you hurt?"
Simon stumbled to a halt before them, panting. He braced his hands on his knees, gasping for a few moments before immediately opening his Subspace. "Let's use this for our assignment," he said, pulling out a body wrapped in white bandages. A thin layer of frost coated its surface, so cold it seemed to bite at the air. He quickly unwrapped the bandages. "Th-This is?" Meirin stammered. "It's not human," Simon explained. "It's a monster called a White Ghost. We'll use this to make our zombie."
"Whoa!" Meirin was so ecstatic, she jumped on the spot. "This is prime material for a zombie! Where in the world did you find something this valuable?"
"It was in the basement of the mansion where I was held captive."
"You were captured by a bunch of ghouls and still had the presence of mind to think about our assignment?" Dick laughed. "That's impressive."
Simon smiled sheepishly and scratched his head. "I just got lucky."
"Come on, we're running out of time! Let's get started!" Meirin urged. The four of them gathered around the White Ghost once more, with Simon taking the lead. He rolled up his sleeves. "I'll begin."
Implanting the magic circle was surprisingly easy. Perhaps because of the trial and error they had endured at Prince's mansion, they finished the work much faster than before. The moment the magic circle was complete, the zombie that was once a White Ghost lurched to its feet. The four of them finally let out a cheer and high-fived. "Students over there! We're closing evaluations now!" a TA's voice cut through the air. "Yes, sir!"
"We're coming!"
They shoved the zombie into the Subspace and managed to squeeze in at the very end of the line. "Ah, I'm a little worried," Meirin said, biting her fingertip nervously. "I can't stop thinking about how we failed to bring out the White Ghost's unique traits. We just ended up with a generic zombie."
"It'll be fine," Simon replied with a gentle smile. Just then, his gaze fell on a smudge of dirt on Meirin's uniform. "Hold on. You've got some dirt on your back."
He carefully brushed it off. Her gaze drifted to his arm. With his sleeves rolled up, the muscles and veins stood out in sharp relief. Meirin unconsciously imagined that sturdy arm wrapping around her waist. Pion's arm had been about that thick when he'd held her...
"HUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!!!"
"HUUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!!!"
Her face went scarlet as she let out a strangled cry and stumbled back. Simon, who had been innocently dusting off her uniform, froze, awkwardly lowering his hand. "Oh, forgive me. I was just..."
"Huh? N-No! It's not you! I wasn't startled because of you," she stammered, glancing at Simon. He looked away, scratching the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. Then she recalled Pion viciously kicking the perverted old man, his gaze as cold and deadly as a machine's as he stared at her. She was certain now. Even the slightest doubt Kamibarez had raised vanished completely. Just as she'd thought. They weren't alike at all. "Students, please come in."
A moment later, it was Team 7's turn. Aaron, draped in a black coat, settled into his chair with a look of profound boredom as the four students bowed respectfully. "You're the last ones," he stated. "Yes, sir. We are Team 7!" Meirin, the team leader, announced. Aaron gave a slight nod. "Show me."
Simon opened his Subspace and brought out the zombie made from the White Ghost. 'Ooh...'
The TAs who recognized the creature let out small gasps of admiration. Even Aaron sat up a little straighter. "Where did you get this?"
"It was in the basement of an old mansion on the outskirts of Deathland, sir."
"Impressive that you found a White Ghost at all." Aaron stood and began examining the zombie, his hands running over its entire body. He pried its eyes open with his bare fingers and even leaned in to smell its breath. Next, he quizzed them on the formula used to create it, and Simon answered fluently. "Why did you omit the sustenance formula?"
"Because of the unique nature of Deathland, sir," Simon explained. "We took into account that things do not decay there."
Aaron turned his head toward the others. "Why did you exclude the corpse poison effect, a crucial element for a zombie?"
This time, Meirin answered. "The White Ghost is an ice-attribute monster. We determined the infectious effect of corpse poison would be diminished."
"Not bad. Who performed the actomyosin check?"
"I-I did, sir!" Kamibarez squeaked. "Explain the state of muscle rigor before and after the summoning."
Aaron threw a question each to Kamibarez and Dick. Though nervous, they both answered without much difficulty. Aaron nodded and sat back down.
"The material was excellent to begin with. It seems you all handled it to the best of your abilities. The work looks a bit rushed, but it's serviceable."
At his words, the four of them flinched. A TA handed Aaron a file and a quill, and he checked off their names. "Team 7 receives an A+. You may go."
"YAYYY!" The four of them hugged each other and burst into cheers. The TAs offered a light round of applause. "Everyone, assemble," Aaron commanded. With the final team's evaluation complete, Aaron stepped out of the tent. Students who had been proudly displaying their creations outside swarmed over and snapped to attention. Even those who had finished early and were in the rest tents came running. "Good work," Aaron said, his eyes sweeping over the students. "I am sure you all learned a great deal from this performance evaluation. Some of you might resent me for forcing you to do such a terrible thing."
A few students shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. The corpses in Deathland were all perfectly preserved, their forms untouched by decay. For some, turning them into zombies was an act that could leave deep psychological scars. "There may also be those who claim my teaching methods are outdated," he continued. "After all, we live in an age where you can easily buy zombies or skeletons in the city if you have the money. However, you are Kizen."
Aaron's gaze turned serious. "As elites in this field, knowing your roots and understanding the fundamentals is paramount. It is foolish to dismiss tradition in the name of practicality. A tree may look lush with leaves and flowers, but if its roots are rotten, it will not survive the storm."
He slowly turned in a circle. "This peace will not last forever. A necromancer who cannot raise a single undead because the corpse factories have been destroyed by Priests has no right to the title. No matter the situation, you must remain cold and find the most efficient methods."
His eyes flashed. "If there are no corpses on the market, go to a nearby bombed-out village and turn their bodies into your army. If you are short on numbers, raise the corpse of a dead friend to achieve victory. That is practicality. And that is what it means to be a necromancer."
Aaron walked away, his coat billowing behind him. "All Class A students, bring out every zombie you took from Deathland. The unevaluated, the failures—all of them."
Simon's White Ghost and guard zombie were no exception. 'He just seized control of them! All of them, just like that...!' It was a stark reminder of the overwhelming power a Kizen professor wielded. All the zombies converged on the open space, piling on top of one another until they formed a grand, writhing mound. "This is unfortunate news for you," Aaron announced, holding out his palm. A Jet-Black magic circle began to assemble with a series of sharp clicks. "The zombies from Deathland have a side effect. Once they leave, they exhibit intermittent bursts of extreme aggression. It's far beyond what students can control, so they would have been confiscated by the school the moment you returned."
Finally, his magic circle was complete, scattering a pure black light. Watching it, Simon's shoulders trembled. 'Why?'
He instinctively knew what kind of black magic Aaron was casting. "Corpse—"
Aaron clenched his fist, his lips parting. "—Explosion."
A strange, thrilling pulse began to pound in Simon’s chest.
The core of every zombie erupted in a blinding light, and then, in unison, they detonated. A wave of scorching heat blasted outward. Students screamed, ducking and shielding their faces with their arms as their uniforms flapped wildly and the trees swayed. "Oh." Simon's eyes were wide, transfixed by the spectacle. All thoughts of the White Ghost he had borrowed from Prince evaporated. Against the pitch-black night sky, a mushroom cloud of ash and dark energy bloomed and dispersed. The other students stared, their mouths agape. It was as if the world itself were turning to ash and scattering in the wind. They were too overwhelmed to form a single thought. Aaron gave a slight nod, like an exorcist offering a final prayer, and turned around. "Do you find it beautiful?" he asked with a faint smile. "If you felt that, even for a fleeting moment, then you too have taken your first step as a necromancer."

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