A fresh breeze drifted through the air on a pleasant morning. Simon, having been chosen by Lethe, found himself walking beside her along a park path.
"...I can’t believe this is happening," he muttered.
"You have a problem with it?" Lethe asked bluntly.
Simon waved his hands frantically. "No, no! Not at all. I was just thinking it might be safer to tour the island from inside a guarded carriage."
"I already told you," she said in her signature cynical tone, stuffing her hands into her robe pockets. "Ever Kyre is not on this island. Those necromancer fools don’t fully trust my Starfall, so I had no choice but to agree to this patrol. That being the case, isn’t it only fair that I choose the method I find most convenient?"
"Alright, I get it. But are you sure it’s okay for you to be seen like this?"
She was wearing the same adventurer’s attire she had arrived in, her face only partially obscured by her hood.
"Don’t you worry. I’m wearing an artifact that interferes with facial recognition," she said, holding up a festival map. "Now, since you’re my guide, I expect a proper tour."
"I’ll do my best. Where should we start?"
"Well, since we’re ostensibly searching for a fanatic, we should probably stick to crowded places," she said, tapping a few locations on the map. "The vendor plaza, the beach... oh, the club booths look fun."
"...Didn’t you just say we should stick to crowded places?" Simon pointed at the map she was holding. "The most crowded place right now is the stadium! There’s a place called Ringcastle Stadium right nearby. Want to go there?"
Lethe stopped and stared at him intently.
"What’s wrong?"
"No, nothing," she said with a small sigh, giving a slight nod. "Lead the way."
"Okay."
They chatted as they walked, the presence of the distant necromancer agents almost completely forgotten, allowing them a measure of freedom.
"Hey! Simon!"
"Simon,"
Familiar voices called out. Meirin and Kamibarez were jogging toward them.
"Meirin! Kami!"
"Why haven’t you been answering your calls, you idiot!" Meirin fumed as she caught up to them. "Does the student council ever get a break? Are you slacking off? Do you have any idea how many incidents have popped up?"
"S-Sorry," Simon apologized quickly. "I had something I had to take care of."
"A guy who says he has something to do is...!" Meirin’s tirade cut off as she noticed Lethe standing quietly beside Simon. "Who’s this?"
"Ah, let me introduce you." He hadn’t expected this to happen so soon. Steeling himself, Simon launched into the cover story he’d prepared. "This is Lena. She’s a friend from my hometown, Les Hill. She came for the Dark Festival, and we just happened to run into each other. I’m showing her around since it’s her first time on Roc Island."
The old hometown friend routine. It was cliché, but it was the best a boy who’d spent seventeen years in the mountains could come up with. The name Lena was the alias she’d used on their trip to the Holy Federation.
"And this is Meirin Villenne and Kamibarez Ursula, my classmates and fellow student council members."
After the introductions, Simon glanced nervously at Lethe. He wasn’t hoping for them to become fast friends; he was just praying she wouldn’t display her usual open disgust for necromancers.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Lethe said, bowing politely. She tossed her ash-gray hair and looked up, a warm smile in her eyes. "My name is Lena."
"Hi!" Meirin responded, her voice bright and cheerful at the appearance of a new girl their age. "I’m Meirin, the Kizen Vice President. If you’re friends with Simon, we can speak casually, right?"
"Of course."
"I’m the secretary, Kamibarez Ursula!"
"It’s a pleasure."
"You’re so pretty! Where did you get your hair done?"
"You’re beautiful too, Meirin. I had it done in a city I visited before coming here. Seeing you makes me want to grow my hair longer."
"Really?"
Somehow, the two of them were hitting it off, launching into an excited, nonstop chatter.
"So, what’s your relationship with Simon?" Meirin asked.
"We’re friends. Childhood friends, from our hometown."
"Hmph. Childhood friends."
"Yes. I was so worried when the Simon I’d known since we were little suddenly left to become a necromancer. It’s wonderful to see he’s even become the Student Council President. Please take good care of him."
"Oh my. And why would you be the one asking me to take care of Simon?"
"Because you’re the Vice President. I meant that you should support the President well."
"Ahah! Is that what you meant? I see."
"Yes."
Simon took a nervous step back. It was a perfectly normal conversation, and they were both smiling, but he could feel a strange, tense current crackling between them.
"Lena, is this your first time at the Dark Festival?" Kamibarez chimed in, her cute ears twitching.
Lethe quickly turned her attention to her. "Yes, it is."
"Then you have to visit the street market! The pudding and carrot cake are delicious!"
"Ah, thank you for the tip." Kamibarez moved closer to Lethe, happily pointing out various attractions. She was a natural at her student council duties. Lethe watched her for a moment before speaking.
"It may be rude of me to say this to a noblewoman, but..."
"Um?"
"You are absolutely adorable."
Kamibarez’s face flushed a brilliant red. "Uh, th-tha, thank you."
Lethe gave a satisfied smile. She didn’t show it often, but she had a soft spot for cute things. It seemed her relationship with Kamibarez was off to a good start.
"A-And the coastline is beautiful at night!"
"Isn’t that other place better for a night view?" Meirin interjected. "The mountains by the teleportation circle."
"That won’t be necessary," Lethe said with a sweet smile. "Simon already showed it to me yesterday."
Meirin’s head whipped around, her eyes blazing as she shot a fiery glare at Simon. Kamibarez, too, looked concerned, stealing worried glances at him.
A small explosion erupted from a nearby park. Meirin and Kamibarez jumped, instinctively channeling Jet-Black into their legs.
"Meirin! We have to go!"
"Right."
"What’s going on?" Simon asked.
"We got a report that some students from the same department started a fight! We were on our way to break it up!"
"Sorry! We have to go!"
The two of them took off, speeding toward the park on currents of Jet-Black. The lively atmosphere vanished, leaving an abrupt silence.
"Are you sure you don’t need to help?" Lethe asked, her calm demeanor returning as she slipped her hands back into her pockets.
"Yeah. With their skills, they’ll be fine."
In the distance, they could see shards of ice and spatters of blood flying through the air, followed by Meirin’s furious shriek: "Won’t you stop, you bastards!"
Immediately after, the commotion died down.
"Hmm."
Lethe crossed her arms, a curious smile playing on her lips.
"Not bad. I’d almost like to face you on a battlefield someday."
"Don’t say such terrifying things," Simon replied. "We’re here to stop a war, to ensure it never comes to that, remember?"
"Right. Let’s go," she said, striding ahead. "To protect world peace."
The Ringcastle Arena was in the full swing of a third-year match, the stands packed with spectators roaring their approval. In the front rows, a few middle-aged men chugged beer and laughed boisterously. Snacks of all kinds were scattered everywhere, leaving the cleaning minions bent over in exhaustion.
Simon wove through the crowd, meticulously combing through every corner of the arena for any trace of Ever Kireh.
’I hope Agent Alistair’s team has made some progress,’ he thought.
Despite the severe shortage of personnel, the investigation conducted solely by Nephthys’s inner circle was moving quickly. They were reportedly tracking the trail of Ever Kireh, who had escaped from the port. They’d even found signs of several skirmishes, but the fanatic was constantly distorting reality to flee, making him difficult to track through conventional means.
Still...
’Is the person off the island really Ever Kireh?’
Both Lethe’s Starfall results and Alistair’s investigation pointed to Ever Kireh having escaped Roc Island, but Simon couldn’t shake a lingering unease. His opponent was an Innate Ability user who could warp reality; he had to keep every possibility in mind. This was no time to let his guard down.
Letting out a quiet breath, Simon’s gaze drifted to the arena floor.
’So I end up watching it from here after all.’
He watched Balak, the second-ranked third-year, a man in an iron mask who spewed poisonous smoke from his mouth. His body was wrapped in a thick, coat-like garment that completely obscured his uniform, and he was single-handedly tearing through the other students.
’Balak Original—Poison Fang’
A wave of venom erupted from him, sweeping away the students in a single blast. It didn’t matter if they had Jet-Black shields or defensive magic; his overwhelming power indiscriminately reduced their barrier gauges to zero, teleporting them out of the arena.
"Ugh!"
"Whoa!"
As the cloud of poison billowed toward the edge of the arena, nearby spectators scrambled back. An invisible barrier protected the stands, but as the poison struck it, the barrier hissed and flickered so menacingly it looked as if it might shatter at any moment.
Wherever Balak went, wells of poison overflowed and toxic mists bloomed. Students clutched their throats in agony before surrendering and hitting the forfeit button. In an instant, the arena had transformed into a land of death.
"Th-The objective of this match is to score points by getting the ball into the goal, but..." the announcer stammered, his voice laced with disbelief. "Besides Balak, there are no other students left in the arena. It seems impossible to continue. Ah, the referee has just declared the end of the match! The final winner is the Department of Deadly Poisons!"
To think he’d just end the match like that, rules be damned. Watching from the stands, Simon let out an uneasy laugh.
’He’s incredible. I wonder if our own Leonard could beat him.’
And then another question surfaced. If the second-ranked student was this strong, just how powerful was the first-ranked, Aizel? When Aizel returned, Simon would have to fight him for the presidency of the Student Council.
"Is this really the time to be leisurely watching a match?"
The sudden, sharp voice broke his concentration. Lethe had approached without him noticing and was now staring at him with a sullen expression. Simon snapped back to reality and smiled.
"Any luck?"
"I don’t sense any Divinity in this arena," she said with a shrug. "It will likely be the same in the others."
"Good work. Let’s check another location."
"Okay."
Lethe glanced into the arena for a moment before speaking.
"By the way, do you participate in matches like that?"
"Of course. I’m in one match a day. Interested?"
"Oh."
A meaningful smile touched her lips as she crossed her arms.
"That sounds fun. I’ll have to make sure I watch that one."
"Haha, it’s a little embarrassing."
As they chatted, Simon spotted a familiar face nearby. Shimmering black hair that looked as if it were spun from the night sky, and ruby-red eyes. He was so happy to see her that he called out without thinking.
"Lo—!"
Suddenly, his vision was blocked. Lethe had grabbed him and pulled him behind her.
"What’s wrong?"
"That person."
Lethe’s expression was hard and serious, her body coiled with tension.
"Something’s off about her. We need to be careful..."
"Oh, Simon!"
Just then, Lorraine spotted him and walked over.
"You came to cheer on the third-years, too?" Her gaze then shifted. "And who’s this with you?"
They didn’t seem to know each other, but both of their expressions soured. The young Saintess and the Witch’s daughter had finally met.

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