"Uhhh...!!"
At Parahan's question, Simon felt goosebumps prickle the back of his neck.
'How on earth did he know?'
Simon desperately tried to maintain a smile, but his facial muscles inevitably stiffened. His mouth went dry and his stomach churned, but he managed to squeeze out a single sentence. "I'm not sure what you mean, Professor."
"Uh-huh!" The old man, who had suddenly become a fearsome figure in Simon's eyes, smiled benevolently while stroking his beard. "I have lived my entire life with divinity. I can feel a faint aura of it from you. More importantly, when I touched your body in class earlier..." Parahan held out his palm. "...the extreme rejection that a necromancer should have did not occur. Your pained reaction aside, your body accepted my divinity without any resistance."
Simon's face went pale. Had the training been a test to find that out from the very beginning?
"I know what you're worried about," Parahan said in a friendly voice. "You can leave now, and we can pretend this never happened. This old man has no intention of harming a young man with a bright future ahead of him."
Simon still didn't let his guard down. He couldn't answer so easily. He didn't know if he could trust Professor Parahan yet, nor did he know what the professor would do to him. However, he knew that denying his ability to use divinity in front of this man was now pointless. He was a master of divinity, and he must have been sure of his suspicions to arrange a meeting like this.
'If the Defense Against Divinity professor testifies to Kizen headquarters, it's all over,' he thought grimly. Kizen had become extremely sensitive about spies since the Saintess Incident. If he were to be interrogated as a divinity user, the truth about Richard and Anna might leak out.
Just then, Parahan, reading Simon's hesitant expression, stood up. "It seems this old man was too hasty. You may leave for today."
Should he leave and wait for another opportunity? No. Now that Parahan knew his secret, dragging this out wouldn't do any good.
"Please," Simon said, remaining seated. "I want to hear what you have to say, Professor."
At those words, a strange light flickered in Parahan's eyes. It wasn't a direct answer, but the positive implication was clear.
"You're not like the young people these days. There aren't many who have the patience to converse with an old man." He began to untie his neat traditional training uniform. "To earn your trust, I suppose I should first tell you about my current situation."
The moment Parahan opened his dobok to reveal his upper body, Simon gasped. Countless 'Permanence Magic Circles' were ticking and moving across his chest and abdomen.
"As you can see, my life is in the hands of Kizen headquarters," Parahan said. "If they so much as lift a finger, this old man will immediately return to dust."
"Isn't that... too harsh? No matter the circumstances...!"
"I am grateful for it," Parahan said, stroking his beard. "I was a man with nowhere to go after betraying the Federation. The necromancers had no reason to keep us alive. But Lady Nephthys personally bestowed her mercy upon me." He chuckled softly. "Here on the other side of the world, my life has been spared, I've been given a respectable job, and I'm using my knowledge for the sake of the youth, am I not? My final years are happier than anyone else's in the world."
"Of course, it's the same for my TAs. The Permanence Magic Circles are a control measure from Kizen headquarters, attached in exchange for working at the school. If they were to let priests loose in Kizen without any means of control, the parents wouldn't stand for it." His eyes turned to Simon. "A divinity user among necromancers... our situations are similar. In this regard, I believe this old man can empathize with and understand your hardships more than anyone else."
A serene smile on a placid face. Witnessing such perfect sincerity, Simon was reminded to never underestimate the wisdom of age.
He let out a small sigh. "...What do you want from me?"
"The question is backward," Parahan smiled. "What do you want from me?"
"Huh!"
"You are a student, and I am a professor. You are one who learns, and I am one who teaches. So, for example..." Parahan's voice dropped. "...if you wish it, I can formally teach you white magic."
At those words, Simon's heart began to pound rapidly.
"I do not condemn you for being able to wield both Jet-Black and divinity. Do you believe in fate?"
Simon shook his head. "N-no."
"I believe there must be a profound reason why the Goddess gave you, a necromancer, divinity. To put it more bluntly..." Parahan's gaze grew serious. "...I even wonder if my arrival at Kizen before my last breath was for the very purpose of meeting you."
Simon's mind was a jumble. A sudden offer for secret white magic tutoring.
[Bwahahahahahaha!]
Suddenly, Pier's booming laughter echoed in his head. Simon flinched in surprise.
'Y-you scared me, Pier! How long have you been watching?'
[That old man is completely mad! To teach white magic in Kizen, the holy land of necromancers? Bwaha!]
Simon thought for a moment before asking, 'Are you against it, Pier?'
[There is no reason to be! During the Saintess Incident, I also experienced that bizarre state of being a 'holy undead'. And you even used a technique called Corpse Explosion. You are already too deeply involved with divinity to back out.]
More than anything, Simon was recalling his mother's voice.
—"Half of you is made of me, Simon. I hope you'll take an interest in the place where I was born and lived."
No matter how much he denied it, half of him was a priest. Besides, divinity was one of his assets. Just because he had become a necromancer, he didn't think he needed to bury this power. He wanted to learn whatever he could.
"...Professor, I..." Simon looked at Parahan, his voice trembling but his gaze resolute. "I would like to learn white magic."
As if he had been waiting for that very answer, Parahan smiled joyfully and nodded.
Parahan gave Simon a simple test. He needed to know Simon's proficiency in white magic to determine the future direction of his education.
"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!" Parahan couldn't stop expressing his admiration.
Simon hadn't focused on mastering one subject, but he could use a variety of skills. Of course, there was the basic offensive skill, Holy Arrow. He knew Heal and Cure, the basics of Healing Studies, as well as Strength, Haste, and Endurance from Blessing Studies. In addition, he could also use defensive techniques from Guardian Studies. The reason he had learned so broadly was because he hadn't been taking classes to become a priest, but had been training to 'act' like one in the Holy Federation.
"Your fundamentals are solid. I'd believe you if you said you were an Efnel priest at the beginning of the semester!"
In fact, Simon had a record of fooling numerous Heretic Inquisitors in the Federation.
"I don't know who taught you, but you have been well taught."
Simon smiled slightly. At the same time, he was grateful that Parahan didn't ask who had taught him.
Parahan moved his quill pen frantically. "It's been a while since I've lectured on white magic, and I'm thrilled. By any chance, is there a white magic you'd like to major in? Of course, you could also just raise the overall level of your white magic as it is."
"Hmm, I'm not sure," Simon said after a moment's thought. "By any chance... could I also learn Divine Beast Studies?"
"It's possible, but we can't even start the class without a divine beast. And finding a divine beast in the lands of the Dark Alliance would be like plucking a star from the sky."
"I suppose so."
For now, they decided he would learn a little of everything and find his aptitude among Efnel's seven subjects.
'I never thought I'd be talking about white magic at Kizen,' Simon mused, lifting his head to look out the window. 'I wonder how Lethe is doing.'
At Sky Island, the Efnel Headquarters:
"This is incredible. Truly incredible," Rahl, an Archbishop of the Holy Federation and a professor of Divinity Dynamics, scowled. In front of her, a female student dressed neatly in a white Efnel uniform sat in a chair. "Just look at the trouble you've caused this past week."
Rahl scattered documents across her desk. The student nonchalantly turned her gaze to the side, her expression full of defiance.
"Assaulting a fellow student, battering an upperclassman, assault, battery, assault, battery..." Rahl, who had been reading down the list, placed a hand on her forehead and sighed. "Why do you keep getting into fights with people, Lethe?"
The girl with hair as white as snow and golden eyes snorted. "They started it. That one kept bothering me with some confession of feelings, so I just beat him up. Romance is against school rules, a rule you're no fan of either, Professor."
"Violence is a bigger violation of the rules!" Rahl shouted, then clutched her throbbing head. "Please, as the top-ranked student of Efnel! No, before that, conduct yourself as a female believer. Are you some six-year-old boy who gets into fistfights? Why must you keep beating people up? Maintain your dignity!"
"If I'm a female believer, I'm not allowed to beat people up?" Lethe grumbled cynically, and sparks flew from Rahl's eyes.
"Lethe!"
"Honestly, Efnel seems too stiff and old-fashioned. There's a separate code of conduct for each position, status, and gender, and if you don't follow it, it's just nagging, nagging."
"You know this well, Lethe! A pious mind comes from a pious body! It's the foundation of a priest!"
"Acting all solemn doesn't seem to increase my divinity, and my divinity is unchanged even now when I go around beating people up."
Rahl let out a deep sigh. What on earth had gotten into this kid? Although she was a bit prickly and rough, Lethe used to conduct herself piously as a priest. But at some point, she had changed. Yes, the vacation had been the turning point. After the break, from the second semester onward, Lethe seemed to question everything that Efnel and the Holy Federation enforced. Who on earth did she meet, and what influence did they have on her?
"You show no signs of remorse." Rahl glared at her coldly.
Lethe was a key talent of Efnel, a heavyweight who would lead the Federation in some way in the future. The next 'Saintess of Purification' had not yet appeared, but she was also the overwhelming favorite to be the candidate. The higher-ups were already pressuring Rahl about her failure to manage Lethe. She thought it would be best to fix her habits now, before she became a Saintess and ascended to a demigod-like position.
"Kneel, Lethe."
"Okay."
Replying with a flat voice, she got off the chair and knelt on the bare floor with an expressionless face.
"I am ordering you to a twelve-hour fast and prayer. Pray to the Goddess and properly reflect on what you did wrong..."
"Professor Rahl!" The door burst open, and a monk ran in. He then whispered a report in her ear, and Rahl's face twisted into a deep scowl. "I'll go right away."
Rahl shot up and glared at the kneeling Lethe. "Remember. Twelve hours."
"Yes. Have a safe trip," Lethe said, preparing to put her hands together in prayer. Rahl hurriedly left with the official.
"Heave-ho." She immediately stood up and walked toward the side door without a second glance. "Am I crazy? As if I'd be foolish enough to do something like that."

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