The No. 1 Arena, where Simon and Chatel had fought, had been shattered to pieces after ascending into the sky. The No. 3 Arena, where Meirin and Serne had clashed, was now a smoldering sea of fire. Kizen headquarters officially suspended the use of both venues, forcing the administrators to scramble to coordinate alternatives.
Simon, Dick, and Kamibarez headed down the stairs toward the waiting room to meet Meirin. She was approaching from down the hall, a towel draped over her head. In stark contrast to the scorching arena, she was sniffling from the lingering chill of her own magic.
"Meirin!" Kamibarez cried, running over and throwing herself into her friend’s arms.
Meirin gave an awkward little smile. "Kami. I’m filthy right now."
"I was so worried, Meirin!" Kamibarez finally burst into tears, not caring that her own face was getting smudged with soot as she buried it in Meirin’s shoulder. Meirin smiled softly and stroked her back.
"Man, that match was seriously awesome!" Dick exclaimed dramatically, reenacting Meirin’s final, decisive blow. "Now that’s how you go down fighting!"
Simon walked up behind them, a grin on his face. "Did you fight without any regrets?"
"...Simon!"
The moment she saw her friends’ faces, Meirin felt a wave of relief. Her nose began to sting, and her vision blurred. But crying in front of them was too embarrassing. She desperately composed herself and forced a bright smile. "Did you win?"
Simon nodded. "Of course."
"To beat Chatel... you’re really something else."
The two shared a quiet laugh. Kamibarez peeked out from Meirin’s embrace. "Meirin! You were so cool at the end!"
"Huh? R-Really? I was in such a trance, I don’t even know what happened..."
"When you were relentlessly pushing Serne, you were kind of like a female Simon!"
Meirin’s face flushed beet red. "K-Kami! Is that really a compliment?"
Kamibarez nuzzled her face against her friend and smiled. "To me, it’s the highest compliment."
"Y-You!"
All four of them burst into boisterous laughter. Dick, who was bent over cackling, glanced at the clock on the ceiling and his eyes widened. "Whoa, crap, is it that late already?! Kami! We have to get ready for our match!"
"Okay, Dick!"
The three of them started walking quickly toward the exit. Simon was about to follow when his head turned. A single feather was gently landing on his shoulder.
’Thank you.’
The moment the feather touched him, an image of Serne appeared in his mind. She was leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway, waving her hand.
"...Serne."
"Thank you for helping our Meirin," her voice echoed in his head. "She’s an important asset to the Ivory Tower, so it’s only right that I, as the heir, offer my gratitude." In his vision, she grasped the hem of her skirt and bowed.
Simon, however, just furrowed his brow and sighed. "You’re not going to tell me you pushed Meirin to her limit for her own good, are you?"
"Ooh-hoo-hoo. Actually, that was my intention at first." A devilish smile played on her lips. "But seeing my cute little Meirin gritting her teeth and coming at me so fiercely... it’s like a switch was flipped. I just felt like bullying her. My original plan got a little derailed."
"You really do have an awful personality," Simon said flatly.
"Isn’t that part of my charm?"
He shook his head at her shamelessness.
"Hey." A hand clapped onto his shoulder. "What are you two doing?"
It was Meirin. She grabbed Simon and pulled him forcefully behind her. He stared at her back, surprised.
"Oh, my." Serne’s voice was laced with amusement. "I was using illusion magic. How did you know?"
"Who do you think you’re calling an idiot?" Meirin pointed to the ceiling with a deadpan expression. A ’Dispel Illusion’ magic circle had been drawn on the ceiling. "Funny, isn’t it? You probably thought you could control someone like me whenever you wanted."
Serne simply held her silence, a faint, unreadable smile on her face.
"Yeah, keep underestimating me. I reached 70% by the end of our first year. In our second, I’ll fight you to a draw. And by graduation in our third year..." Meirin gave a sharp thumbs-down. "I will defeat you. And I’m taking the position of heir to the Ivory Tower."
Serne’s eyes curved like a fox’s. Then, with a meaningful expression, the corners of her mouth lifted. "I’ll look forward to it."
She turned, gave Simon a quick wink, and vanished as the space around her distorted.
"Hmph." Meirin placed her hands on her hips and clicked her tongue in disgust before turning back to Simon. "Hey."
Flustered, Simon stammered, "W-Wait a minute! Meirin! I didn’t do anything! Serne just suddenly—!"
"Thank you."
Simon stopped short. He had expected her to be angry, but her eyes were filled with a warm, gentle gratitude. "What you said from the stands was a huge help." Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she said coyly, "If it weren’t for you, right now I’d be..."
"It was all the result of your own effort, wasn’t it?" Simon interrupted, then started walking. In the distance, Dick and Kamibarez were waving, waiting for them. "At least for today, just be happy for what you’ve accomplished."
Watching his back as he walked away, she felt her chest tighten. She took a deep breath.
"W-Wait up, you dummy!"
Kizen headquarters officially announced that this would be the final duel evaluation for the first-years.
Simon finished in the high squad with an undefeated record. Meirin, who had also been undefeated, lost to Serne at the very end and was placed in the mid squad. Kamibarez won a match in the mid squad, moving up to the high squad, while Dick finished in the low squad.
However, the grades were based more on a detailed assessment of the duels’ content than the final rankings. Despite being in the mid squad, Meirin would likely receive a higher score than most students in the high squad.
Of course, the final squad placement still mattered. The bottom 100 students of the ’current lowest squad’ were immediately expelled from Kizen. The number of expulsions had decreased now that the duel evaluations carried less weight in the integrated second semester, but it was still a brutal culling.
Of the 1,000 students who had initially enrolled, only 647 remained. The number of survivors was sure to plummet further with the upcoming performance evaluations, final exams, mission evaluations, and, above all, the promotion exam.
And so, the final performance evaluations for each subject—a major hurdle—began.
First up was Professor Hongfeng’s Martial Arts: ’One-on-One against a TA.’
"Bwahahaha!"
The TA Simon had to face was none other than Brad, with whom he had a rather unpleasant history.
"What are you doing, Simon Polentia?! Try acting cocky like last time!" Brad roared, his fists flying in a relentless barrage that pushed Simon back.
Simon remained strictly on the defensive. The rules were simple: use only martial arts. A single magic circle meant disqualification. To earn an A+, a student had to land three effective hits on the TA before their own barrier gauge ran out.
"What’s wrong! Come at me for real!" Brad yelled, his punches filled with personal grudge. While he had held back against other students, he showed no such restraint with Simon. Even behind his guard, Simon’s barrier gauge had already dropped by nearly half.
But Simon was calm.
Even crouched in a defensive stance, he wasn’t intimidated. The way his eyes searched for an opportunity only infuriated Brad further.
’His only attacks are Chwita, Cheonhyung, and Chakgeom! I won’t let him land a single one!’
Brad stopped his barrage and pulled back his right fist. Seeing the jet-black roiling violently around it, Dick shouted in alarm. "Simon! It’s Cheonhyung!"
"Dodge it!"
Cheonhyung, the attack that pierced any defense. A smirk spread across Bread’s face as he threw his right fist at the defending Simon.
But Simon voluntarily dropped his guard and moved forward, taking the full force of Cheonhyung to the chest.
"What?!"
It took nerves of steel to do something like that, even knowing it was a piercing attack. Simon closed the distance instantly, slapping his right hand onto Bread’s side and pushing with all his might.
’Simon Original – Chokpa’
With a sharp crack, Brad was sent flying. The first light, signifying a successful hit, lit up.
He flew to the edge of the training hall and landed hard on his rear with a dull thud. "Kugh! What technique was that?!"
As soon as he raised his head, he saw Simon with his index and middle fingers pressed together, in the posture for a powerful flick.
’Simon Original – Papung’
With a snap of Simon’s fingers, a dull thud echoed as a shockwave exploded on Brad’s forehead. A second light lit up, and the watching students cheered.
"What was that?"
"Nice! Keep pushing him!"
Bread’s head cleared. He had underestimated Simon, thinking he was limited to the three great martial techniques, but an original technique had come out of nowhere.
’Damn it! Creating a new martial technique is much harder than creating an original magic circle!’
Brad shot to his feet. ’I can’t give him any more time!’
He couldn’t allow a third hit. It was a matter of pride as a TA. He stomped on the jet-black ground and charged at Simon.
Just then, Simon took a long, slow breath and began to wave his arms in a fluid motion—a preparatory stance. An abnormal amount of jet-black twisted around his fist.
Though his opponent was just a student, anxiety flickered in Brad’s eyes. ’Dammit! What is that?’
A close-range technique? A long-range strike? A counter? A ground technique? He had no idea. As the flustered TA slammed on the brakes to observe Simon’s movements...
Simon suddenly slammed his fist into the ground with a heavy thud. The ground rippled, and a moment later, dirt and rock fragments erupted from under Brad’s feet like a fountain.
’A first-year using a wave technique...!’
The debris pelted Brad, but it wasn’t enough to trigger the third light.
Of course not.
Simon’s real aim was his left hand. After striking the ground with his right fist, a follow-up attack flowed seamlessly. His swinging left hand was shaped into a sharp blade of jet-black.
’Hongfeng Original – Chakgeom’
The blade cut through the air with a vicious hiss.
It was the long-range attack, Chakgeom—obscuring the opponent’s vision with a cloud of dirt before slashing them along with it.
Brad hastily leaned back to dodge, but...
The blade grazed his side and arm. Finally, the third light lit up.
"Ztop the match!" Hongfeng clapped her hands and shouted. "Ztudent Zimon Polentia! Having landed three ztrikez on the Martial Artz TA, an A+ iz confirmed!"
Simon raised his fist and cheered. Dick, Meirin, and Kamibarez shouted wildly, and the other students applauded the first ’A+’ of the evaluation.
"...Huh?"
Brad just stood there, his mouth agape, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

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