"That is hard to believe."
Parahan, the Professor of Holy Defense, was exactly the same as ever.
Dressed in a sage-like robe, he stroked his white beard as he looked down at Aurore, who lay asleep in bed.
"You’re saying a holy spirit possessed this girl?"
"Yes, I saw it with my own eyes."
As Simon answered, White and Black let out happy meows. Thrilled to see their owner after so long, they gnawed playfully on his ears and hair.
"Let me take a look."
Since using holy magic directly on a necromancer was dangerous, Parahan opted for a diagnostic device powered by pure mana.
A moment later, Parahan let out a soft groan of surprise.
"Just as you said, I can feel the traces of a holy spirit. Its roots still remain."
Simon furrowed his brow at those words.
’I beat it to a pulp, yet it’s still lingering.’
"Is there any way to get rid of it right now?"
"Holy spirit magic isn’t a problem that can be solved so simply. If handled incorrectly, she might suffer irreversible damage."
Parahan stroked his long beard and closed his eyes.
"Rather than attempting to extract it from her directly, it is far more important to find and eliminate whatever caused this in the first place."
’The cause.’
’It makes sense. There’s no way a perfectly normal Aurore would suddenly lose her mind and run wild like that.’
"Do you have any guesses?"
"Holy spirits and undead spirits are two sides of the same coin. It’s highly likely that the holy spirit latched onto her due to her racial traits as a banshee. If you seek out a trustworthy authority on Necromancy, they might be able to point you in the right direction."
Simon crossed his arms, lost in thought.
’A trustworthy authority on Necromancy?’
The first-year campus, Necromancy classroom.
"Now, with grit! Put your backs into it and focus today!"
A man was roaming the classroom, yelling at the top of his lungs.
His upper body was human, but his lower half had transformed into a spectral tail, allowing him to float around. He wore an eccentric wolf mask over his face.
This eccentric man was Umbra. He had taught Necromancy during Simon’s first semester at Kizen, and he had been instrumental in helping Simon establish chaos magic like the ’Chaos Reaper’.
’Ah.’
Peeking into the classroom from the outside to watch the first-years taking their Necromancy class, Simon couldn’t help but smile bitterly.
’Brings back memories.’
The first-years were groaning and struggling to feel ’spirits’, the foundation of Necromancy. They were busily spinning artifacts like Ouija boards or shaking occult tools.
And nearly half of the first-years were at the back of the spacious classroom, dancing the ’Dance of the Soul’, which was said to help one feel spirits.
’Ugh, that dance.’
As the memories of his struggles during his first year came flooding back, his stomach suddenly churned.
It was the very dance commonly known among students as the ’Chicken Pecking Dance’ or the ’Squid Courtship Dance’.
"Professor! No matter what I do, I can’t feel any spirits!" a female student complained, on the verge of tears as she danced.
Umbra barked back.
"Grit! You still lack grit! Put more spirit into it and lift your legs! Higher! Until your knees touch your belly button! That’s it!"
Umbra made them do it until they succeeded.
Ultimately, Simon had never managed to feel spirits in Necromancy class and had given up on the subject starting from the second semester of his first year. Of course, he later became able to use something similar in the form of chaos magic.
While Simon was drowning in this real-time bombardment of memories, a voice called out.
"What are you doing here?" an unfamiliar voice cut through his thoughts.
Looking back, he saw a woman who appeared to be a teaching assistant staring at him warily.
"Uh, I’m..."
"Ah!" Upon recognizing Simon’s face, she smiled warmly.
"It’s been a while, Student Council President! I’m Professor Umbra’s head teaching assistant."
"Hello!"
"I remember how hard you worked in your first year, even though you couldn’t feel spirits. You’ve grown a lot more dashing since then."
"Ahaha, thank you," Simon replied with an embarrassed laugh.
"By the way, what brings the Student Council President to the first-year campus?"
"I came because I wanted to get some advice from Professor Umbra. When will the class end?"
She giggled and pointed at the classroom. "If that’s the case, just go on in."
"I-Is that okay?"
"Of course. Everyone’s just at the stage of starting to feel spirits anyway, and all the professor does is walk around and yell."
Since Simon didn’t have much time either, he quickly accepted the offer, opened the classroom door, and stepped inside.
The first-years seemed too frantic with their dancing and spinning occult tools to notice.
Then, one by one, they began to recognize Simon. The murmuring grew louder from all corners of the room until it finally erupted.
"Huh?"
"That person!"
"The Student Council President is here!"
"Whoa!"
"It’s really him!"
The classroom suddenly erupted into deafening cheers.
Hearing the commotion, the other first-years stood up from their seats. Even the dancing first-years and the education team students ran over.
"W-Why the sudden commotion? Go back to your seats!"
"Who’s here?"
The teaching assistants tried to control the crowd, but it was useless. It was a moment that truly highlighted Simon’s immense popularity among the first-years.
Umbra also turned his head at the sound of the cheers, and upon seeing Simon, he flashed a wide, toothy grin.
"Oho, it’s you!"
"Hello, Professor Umbra."
Simon had planned to just ask his questions quietly and leave, so he felt bad for interrupting the class.
However, Umbra laughed heartily as if welcoming him and pulled Simon to his side.
"Alright, everyone, attention!"
"Attention!" the first-years shouted in unison, their eyes sparkling.
It was a level of focus never seen during normal classes.
"This young man, who is now your Student Council President, took my class when he was a first-year! He was an excellent student!"
Simon looked at Umbra with anxious eyes.
’But I couldn’t feel any spirits?’
"His ’Dance of the Soul’ was especially top-notch! I still remember it clearly! The way he passionately stomped his feet and flailed his arms! Hahahaha!"
The first-years were looking at Simon with eyes that said they couldn’t imagine it at all. Simon felt his face flush bright red.
"Anyway, I knew back then that this guy was going to be big! Even though he had absolutely no talent for spirits, he never took a single exercise lightly!"
Slapping Simon heavily on the back, Umbra raised his voice.
"Grit! Effort! Spirit! Willpower! Whether you succeed or fail doesn’t matter! Your attitude and the process are what count! You all should follow this senior’s example and focus on feeling spirits until the very end! Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" the first-years answered energetically.
Umbra turned his head.
"Do you have any final words for your juniors?"
"Uh, well."
The first-years waited for Simon’s words with shining eyes.
Simon smiled awkwardly.
"Dancing is tough, isn’t it?"
"Yeah!"
"Just hold on until finals."
"Hahaha!"
"That’s so true!"
Even at such a mild joke, everyone laughed uproariously.
’Is this the power of fame? They say once you’re famous, people will clap even if you just take a nap.’
"Anyway, what brings you here?" Umbra asked.
"Ah, I have something I’d like to consult you about, Professor."
Umbra puffed out his chest as if to show off to the students, then nodded.
"Let’s head up to my lab. Teaching assistants! Keep the students in line and finish the training!"
"Yes, sir!"
Umbra led the way, and Simon followed.
At that, several first-year students swarmed toward Simon.
"Student Council President! Is it true you’re stepping down from your position?"
"Even if the top third-year student has returned, this isn’t right! It’s just not fair!"
"Don’t step down!"
Outcries erupted from all over. It seemed the duel between Simon and Aizel was a massive issue even among the first-years.
Some even asked who would win if he fought Aizel. Only after the teaching assistants stepped forward and firmly ordered them back to their spots did the first-years’ momentum die down.
In the meantime, Umbra and Simon stepped out of the classroom.
"Hahaha! What incredible popularity!" Umbra chuckled heartily. "You really know how to boost my ego! Thanks for coming to see me."
"Don’t mention it."
"So, what are you curious about?"
Heading to Umbra’s lab, Simon explained the general situation. Of course, just in case, he didn’t mention Aurore’s name, but he did add a request to keep it a secret.
After hearing the story, Umbra spoke up.
"There is a theory considered taboo by both the Dark Alliance and the Holy Federation."
The lock clicked as Umbra opened the door to his lab.
"The foundations of Necromancy and Holy Spirit magic are fundamentally identical in that they both deal with ’spiritual bodies’."
"Oh."
"Wraiths and divine spirits are the same, and spirits and holy spirit revelations are equivalent. The only difference lies in whether the medium used to call the spiritual body is jet-black magic or holy magic."
Umbra busily rummaged through his drawers as he continued talking, papers and tools rustling.
"The Holy Federation, in particular, foams at the mouth in denial, since it directly contradicts their doctrines. The same goes for the Alliance’s Necromancy Association. Of course, the magic systems of the two factions have developed in different directions, but the more I study Necromancy, the more I think that theory isn’t complete nonsense."
He stroked his chin with his fingertips.
"The defining racial trait of banshees is simply possessing the power to become a spiritual body. The stories about marrying a banshee and having children are just legends."
A moment later, he pulled something out of the drawer.
It was an object that looked like goggles.
"What is this?" Simon asked.
"It’s an artifact that shows the flow of spiritual bodies. I’ll lend it to you."
Simon received the artifact from Umbra.
"You should be able to see the flow of holy magic using this. And if that girl was affected by holy magic, there must be a powerful medium controlling her!"
"A powerful medium."
Simon, who had been pondering, gave a slight smile.
"I think I’m starting to get the picture."
That evening.
Having finished all his classes, Simon returned to Rochest, where Aurore’s housing was located.
Aurore was still resting back at Parahan’s house.
The door creaked open. Stepping inside, he found the room in disarray, with candlesticks and trays scattered about from the previous night’s commotion.
Simon scanned his surroundings before approaching the cross drawn on the wall.
"It’s terrifying, even the second time around."
A macabre cross drawn with the blood from her broken fingernails.
Simon slipped on the artifact Umbra had lent him.
"Ah!"
Through the hazy lenses, a very faint, microscopic thread extended from the cross into thin air.
Simon moved, following the thread.
His footsteps echoed softly in the quiet building as his pace gradually quickened. Following the thread, he descended from Aurore’s room on the third floor all the way down to the first.
Simon came to a halt in a dusty storage room on the ground floor. The fine thread led straight into the floorboards.
’It’s an urgent matter, so it can’t be helped.’
This was strictly ’official business,’ and if necessary, he could just pay for the repairs later.
Simon gathered jet-black magic into his leg and stomped hard on the floor.
With a loud, splintering crash, the wooden floor caved in, revealing a pitch-black hole.
The glowing thread continued down into the darkness.
Simon jumped inside without hesitation.
’Hmm.’
Stale air filled his lungs, thick with damp humidity.
It was an underground space.
Landing on both feet, Simon surveyed his surroundings.
’An old sewer. It looks ancient.’
The academy city of Rochest didn’t have a very long history. Before Rochest was built, there had been a small rural village inhabited by the island’s natives, and this was the old-fashioned sewer system used by that village.
Currently, Rochest used a clean, modern sewer system provided by Kizen. The old sewer network had been abandoned along with the outskirts of the city.
’Still, it’s the perfect place to hide something.’
Simon walked along the thread. Since it was no longer in use, there wasn’t even a terrible stench. Everything had just dried up.
He thought he might have to walk for a while, but a reaction came almost immediately.
’Holy magic!’
He instantly stopped in his tracks and braced for an attack. A white magic circle drawn on the wall activated, and soon, a golem made of pure white holy magic was summoned into the sewer.
It looked like a hulking monster built out of glowing glass shards.
’Looks like I came to the right place.’
It was a type of holy summon used to fend off intruders.
It approached with heavy, thudding footsteps. Just as a tense Simon gathered his jet-black magic...
A massive tremor suddenly rumbled through the sewer ceiling above his head.
Simon frowned in confusion. Glancing up, he quickly leaped back.
With a deafening crash, the entire ceiling caved in, burying the holy golem under tons of debris.
Jagged icicles, both large and small, hung from the edges of the collapsed ceiling, and someone suddenly popped out from the rubble.
"Huh?"
Simon blinked. The person also looked at Simon, their mouth agape in surprise.
"S-Simon? Why are you here?"
It was none other than Meirin.

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