Simon and Benya took a carriage to the warehouse. He opened the window, letting the cool air wash over him, and his troubled mind settled with surprising ease. Had the sight been so horrific that his brain was unconsciously trying to erase it? Or was it really not that big of a deal? All that remained in Simon’s mind were questions. What was Walter—no, ‘Judas’—plotting with so many hearts? Lost in thought, they soon arrived at their destination.
It was less a warehouse and more a factory, complete with large-scale industrial facilities. When they brought Deimos inside, another round of chaos erupted.
"The goods are here."
"Is that the material from the Nether Whale?"
The staff members who rushed over couldn’t hide their astonishment.
"Excuse me, coming through," a voice called from behind.
The staff parted at once, bowing their heads. Benya, having somehow changed into work clothes, approached with a set of specialized knives.
"Alright, then. I’ll start the butchering."
She professionally tied her hair back and climbed onto Deimos, knife in hand.
"You’re doing it yourself, Benya?" Simon asked, surprised.
"Of course." She readjusted her grip on the knife and made a series of marks on the carcass. Then, she sliced a cross into the air and placed the tip of her blade at its center. "Beginning the conquest of Deimos!"
Simon’s jaw dropped at the brilliant display of skill that followed. There was no hesitation in her movements. With a swift flash of the blade, the flesh split wide open. It was a technique that required a perfect understanding of muscle and a clear knowledge of the underlying bone structure.
’Splat!’
As she worked, thick chunks of flesh fell to the floor, revealing pristine white bone beneath. Blood splattered her work clothes and face, but Simon didn’t find the sight grotesque. There was a certain sublimity to her expression, completely immersed in her craft.
And so, after about two hours...
"Alright, all done!" she declared.
The form of Deimos, now cleanly stripped down to its skeleton, was revealed. Simon, along with the watching staff, broke into applause.
"It was a juvenile, so there was a lot of soft cartilage, which made it a bit tough," she explained. "But thankfully, the skeleton was well-formed."
"Thank you. You did a great job!" Simon handed her a towel.
She gave her face a quick wipe before handing it back, a proud smile on her tired face.
"Then let’s move right on to strengthening the bones!"
Now it was time to use Vanilla’s advanced equipment. The bones underwent several processes: soaking in a green liquid, being gently brushed with chemicals, and then being placed in a cooling unit. While he waited, Simon took the opportunity to ask Benya a host of questions.
’I’m learning so much. I may have made an enemy of the Dresden prince, but I’m glad I joined this club.’ He felt as if he was finally being compensated for all the trouble Andre had caused him. While asking about various things, Simon cautiously broached the subject that was weighing on him.
"By the way, Benya, are there necromancers who focus only on collecting hearts?"
"Hearts? Why do you ask?"
Simon downplayed what he had seen. "I saw a cart piled high with monster hearts. It was a huge amount."
"Hmm." She thought for a moment. "Well, I can’t think of a time when such a large quantity would be needed. To be honest, hearts are a material used more often by those in Hemomancy, so I don’t know the details. It could be an ingredient for a massive black magic spell."
While Simon was lost in thought, a ‘beep’ sounded from the freezer’s magic circle.
"It’s done!" Benya exclaimed.
They ran over, opened the freezer, and pulled out Deimos’s bones. They were visibly stronger. Normal bones had a rough, dry texture, but these were smooth with a glossy sheen, like porcelain. As a test, Benya took one of the bones and struck a thin piece of wood. With a sharp sound, the wood shattered effortlessly.
"Can other skeletons be made this strong?" Simon asked in admiration.
"That depends on the type of monster and the condition of the bones," she explained. "We at Ваниль usually adjust the bone strength to suit the purpose, but this Deimos is still a juvenile with a lot of cartilage, so we hardened it completely. There was no other choice."
With the preparatory work finished, it was time for the most crucial step: drawing the skeleton’s summoning magic circle.
"They’re here!" Benya shouted, turning her head.
Simon followed her gaze and saw three men walking in from outside. He tensed.
’W-who are these people?’ The aura each of them exuded was formidable.
"This is the first time the Young Lady has asked for our help," said a man with a short beard and a tough-as-nails demeanor. His every movement and word conveyed a lifetime of hard-won experience.
"Thank you for coming right away, even though you must be busy," Benya replied. She spread her arms and introduced the three men to Simon. "Hey, these are the undead artisan necromancers who will draw the summoning magic circle for us: Sir Diego, Sir Marco, and Sir Rodion. They’re here to help."
Simon stared at Benya, astonished. ‘Undead artisans! Was it okay to bring in such big shots?’
"And this is my club junior, a first-year at Kizen, Simon Polentia."
"It’s an honor to meet you!" Simon bowed formally.
The bearded man, Diego, approached and extended his hand. "I’m Diego, a necromancer from the Ваниль Group. A pleasure."
His voice was cold, but Simon didn’t let it show as he shook his hand. "The honor is mine. I look forward to working with you!"
He greeted the other two as well. Afterward, they exchanged a few pleasantries with Benya, shed their robes, and began to prepare for work.
"Simon," Benya said, "this is a special undead creation, different from the usual, so I’ll need your cooperation."
"Yes, I’ll do my best!"
The skeletons he’d bought from the necromancer shop were simple; they only needed finishing touches on their pre-installed magic circles. That was possible because they were mass-produced units with established summoning formulas. A special undead like this one, an entirely new creation made from the bones of Deimos, had to be perfected here through trial and error. That was why Benya had brought in artisans who could handle such a task.
"Hey." While Benya and the artisans were talking, Diego quietly approached Simon.
"Yes! You called?"
"The Young Lady will hear you. Lower your voice."
"Ah, yes."
His eyes flashed fiercely. "I’ll be watching, so do it right. If you hold us back and delay the work, I won’t let it slide."
Diego tapped Simon’s shoulder and walked away, muttering, "I’m busy as hell, this is so annoying. Why do I, at my level, have to participate in some kid’s school project?"
Simon scratched the side of his head, embarrassed. Just then, Pier’s murderous voice echoed in his mind.
[Is that bastard looking for a death wish?]
’...It’s fine. I’m the one who needs help, and I’m the one who asked for it. It’s not like I don’t understand how he feels.’
Simon figured that if he were in the middle of a job and got summoned by the chairman’s granddaughter, he wouldn’t be in a good mood either. He resolved to finish the work quickly, for their sakes as well.
A moment later, the three artisans took their places before Deimos. The easy-going men who had been trading jokes with Benya were gone, replaced by men with serious expressions, their focus sharpening. They performed their individual pre-work rituals, closing their eyes or muttering to themselves.
’Wow, professionals really are something else.’
"What are you doing? You, come forward too," Diego commanded.
"Yes!"
Soon, the real work began. Diego, the leader, drew a magic circle on the skull. As he raised his arm, the circle expanded and floated into the air, nearly two meters wide. The inside was empty. Diego used his Jet-Black to sketch the outline of a rune in the center.
"Keep this in mind," he said in a cold voice. "Once the work starts, there’s no ‘Young Lady’s friend’ or ‘junior.’ I’ll treat you as an equal necromancer, and I won’t go easy on you. Stay focused."
"I’ll keep that in mind!"
"Put your hand on the rune."
Simon placed his hand on the rune’s outline. Diego spoke again. "Jet-Black."
As Simon released his Jet-Black into the outline, the other two artisans quickly took hold of it and began to form the rune. It was an unbelievable sight. They were controlling another person’s Jet-Black to draw a rune in a third person’s magic circle! How was that even possible?
"Lay the chain."
"Ye-yes?"
"You don’t know what a chain is?" Diego shouted. "The circuit for the Jet-Black to pass through! The circuit! Do I have to explain every little thing?"
"I’m sorry!" Simon replied, his body tensing. He continued laying the Jet-Black circuit as the other two artisans drew formulas around it.
"Who told you to draw the chain in a curve! Can’t you lay it more cleanly?"
"I’m sorry! I’ll fix it right away!"
"Sir Simon, the Jet-Black is too strong here. Do it again."
"Yes, I’ll do it again!"
"Friend, you’re nervous. I can see your Jet-Black trembling."
As soon as the work began, the artisans relentlessly pushed Simon. The other two at least had a coaxing tone, but Diego offered no such courtesy.
"Lay it again! What the hell did you learn at Kizen?"
"I’m sorry!"
"If you’re going to do it like this, just quit right now!"
"I’ll do it again!"
Diego was extremely strict, and Simon worked up a sweat. It felt like he was being scolded every minute.
"What is this transformation formula? Who did this?"
"I did!"
"Honestly... Marco, you cover for him."
"Got it." Marco erased the formula Simon had written and meticulously laid it out again from scratch. Simon could only watch from behind.
"This is the second time I’m telling you. Pay attention." Sparks flew from Diego’s eyes. "Every time you make a mistake, the others are the ones who suffer. Right now, you’re not a help, you’re a liability."
"Yes. I’m sorry!"
"Do a Circling in the corner."
Finally, something he recognized—a technique he’d used when learning to summon a Skeleton Archer. Simon immediately created a rotating flow of Jet-Black on his palm and embedded it in the designated spot.
"Circling complete!"
"Next. I won’t show you twice, so watch carefully." Diego created a simple magic circle and gently rolled liquefied Jet-Black over it, which gradually took shape and hardened. "This is Canting. Do it."
"Yes!" Simon’s eyes widened as he liquefied his Jet-Black and rolled it from side to side.
Diego, who had glanced away, turned his head back. "Hey, you can’t even do that one thing right..." He stopped mid-sentence, a bewildered expression on his face.
"I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong?"
"...No, keep going."
’To succeed at that tricky Canting in one go... Didn’t they say he was a first-year?’ Diego tilted his head, then refocused on his own work.
"Lay the chain to the side."
"Yes."
"The binding formula goes there! There’s not enough space!"
"I’m sorry! I’ll do it again!"
"Sir Simon, please fix the formula here, too."
"Yes!"
Simon was sandwiched between three master artisans, but he silently focused on his task. An hour passed in the blink of an eye.
’This kid...’ Diego looked at Simon with surprise. ‘Doesn’t he get intimidated?’
Necromancer school graduates, especially rookies working on a magic circle for the first time, usually spent their first day in tears. The work carried the immense risk of explosion, so seniors were notoriously strict. Plenty of newcomers quit within a month or two. But Simon was different. This kid, who hadn’t even graduated yet, wasn’t intimidated or cowed on site. He wasn’t afraid of being scolded, and he admitted his own ignorance without hesitation, never flinching from asking questions. Even after a major failure, he would cling on tenaciously until he finally solved the problem.
"Can’t you lay the chain straight!"
"I’m sorry!" At Diego’s shout, Simon quickly apologized, then corrected his work and continued steadfastly.
’Strange kid,’ Diego thought.
But...
’...This is fun!’
In fact, Simon was thoroughly enjoying himself.
’Why did I only just discover how fun this is?’ The pleasure of learning, the joy of a challenge—he didn’t have time to feel intimidated by the seniors’ scolding. Working with these artisans was a heaven-sent opportunity. Wasting energy on emotions was a luxury he couldn’t afford. In the time he’d spend moping, he had to learn at least one more thing. He wished they would teach him more, show him newer, more difficult, more complex things.
Caught up in a sense of exhilaration, Simon laid out the Jet-Black circuit in a straight line without a second thought.
"Whoa! That’s bold!" one of the artisans exclaimed.
"Good, good! Summoning magic circles are meant to be made with spirit! Right, friend?"
The other two seniors, excluding Diego, were pleased by Simon’s audacious display. Simon, in turn, gained even more momentum.
"Hey, watch carefully!" Diego demonstrated a new technique using Jet-Black. "This is called a Flop. Can you do it?"
"Yes!"
Simon failed once but succeeded on his second try. Diego, who had been about to get annoyed, felt the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
’What the hell is this bastard’s deal?’
Teach him one thing, he learns ten. He makes one mistake, he learns twenty. He’s not intimidated in front of master artisans, and he’s full of spirit.
"All done! Are there any parts I messed up?"
"No." Diego was a necromancer. Of course, being called away from his work was annoying, but... "Well done. Keep it up."
In this world, there was no necromancer who hated someone who was good at their job.
"Sir Simon, a little help here!"
"Yes!"
After a few hours, even the artisans were starting to rely on Simon. As they drew out the runes, Simon would assist by tucking in the protruding parts with his Jet-Black.
"Hey, the Canting on my line! Who did all this?"
"I did!"
"Ah, thank you, Sir Simon. You saved me a lot of time!"
"Friend! Help me with the Canting on the right!"
"I already did that!"
"Wow, you really did! You’re an ace!"
Two hours had passed since the work began. In just two hours, the artisans had come to recognize Simon as a valuable asset.
"Now, watch carefully, friend." Rodion ruffled Simon’s hair, then raised Jet-Black at his fingertip and pressed a spot on the magic circle. "What we’re making is the undead’s brain. There’s no other logic to it. What we make is everything to the undead. Understand, friend?"
"Yes, I understand!"
"If you press and hold here..." Rodion pressed a spot on the magic circle, and the bones of the tail fin began to twitch. "See? This part is connected to the tail fin’s nerves."
"I understand!"
"But the movement is too unnatural right now." Rodion gently loosened the ‘Circling’ embedded in the magic circle with his fingertip. The twitching grew a little wider. "See? You try turning the Circling to find the balance. If you loosen it too much, the movement becomes unnatural, and if you tighten it too much, it gets stiff."
"Got it!"
The work was going smoothly. The magic circle they were creating was now noticeably racing toward completion.
Just then, Diego, who had finished tuning the head’s movement in focused silence, tried moving the tail fin. His eyes widened dramatically. The tail fin moved with a gentle sway, not like bone, but like a living creature with real flesh and muscle. It truly looked as if Deimos were alive and swimming through the sea.
’This is the first time I’ve seen such smooth movement during the tuning phase!’
Diego urgently raised his head. "Hey! Hey! Wait! Who tuned this tail?"
Simon raised his arm, a slightly nervous expression on his face. "I did! Is there something I need to fix...?"
A current seemed to flow through Diego’s body as he looked down at Simon. A massive thrill washed over him, and his mind burned hot.
"Hahaha!"
’This bastard is the real deal.’
"Mwahahahahahaha!" Diego smacked the top of Simon’s head and laughed out loud. "You crazy bastard! Fucking well done, Simon!!"
It was the first time Diego had called him by his name. Simon’s expression brightened in response. He smiled widely and bowed his head. "Thank you! It’s all thanks to the seniors’ teaching!"
He even had the sense to humbly give credit to his seniors. Thanks to Simon’s performance, the work atmosphere had become electric. All three artisans cast aside their authority, laughing with wide-open mouths as they continued to create the magic circle. They hadn’t had this much fun working in years. Benya, who had been silently watching whether Simon was being scolded or praised, smiled with satisfaction.
"...Haha."
The people back at headquarters would never believe it if she told them. That fastidious Diego had his arm familiarly slung around Simon’s shoulder, an excited look on his face, itching to teach him something new.
"He’s an amazing kid."

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