"My man. Are you ready?" Benya asked as she approached the skull of Manus, which rested on a pedestal. The way she tied up her hair as she walked seemed so resolute that Simon replied with a tense expression.
"Yes."
Benya waved her arms, causing a series of magic circles linked to Manus to float in the air, then activated something with her fingertips.
However.
Nothing happened. Simon, who had been waiting with bated breath, was about to ask if something was wrong when...
’RUMBLE, RUMBLE, RUMBLE!’
The air began to tremble, and the floor started to vibrate. A spectral light flashed within the eye sockets of Manus’s pure white skull. Inside the skull, extremely complex magic circles activated. Various polyhedrons shifted and interlocked, and circuits extending from the center settled into neat arrangements.
Now, the switch for the former Swordmaster ’Manus’ was being flipped.
The flashing spectral light grew larger and larger. Soon, the skull’s jaw creaked open.
-!@&!^’$@%&!!!
It let out a violent, inhuman shriek. Simon hastily deployed a Jet-Black shield. Blade-like energy carved deep gashes throughout the basement.
"Ugh! What is this, just from activating it!"
[Kuhuhu! This is interesting!] Pier’s clone, which had appeared at some point and was clinging to Simon’s uniform, commented. [To have constructed this much from the tiny bit of residual consciousness! The black magic of humans has developed quite a bit.]
’B-But the result seems a bit strange!’
[That’s to be expected.]
Pier’s voice grew heavy.
[That is no longer the Swordmaster we saw in Deathland. It is merely—]
Manus’s skull, which had been rattling, floated into the air. Pitch-black sparks flew, and a raging gale shook the surroundings.
[—a berserk weapon of slaughter.]
’SCREEEEEECH!’
This was dangerous. Simon shouted urgently, "Benya! The basement can’t take any more of this!"
"Got it!"
In the end, she forcibly shut down the power to the summoning magic circle. The spectral light in Manus’s skull gradually faded, and it descended back onto the pedestal.
After the rampage ended, Simon and Benya both collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.
"As you can see, this is the situation," Benya said. "We succeeded in forcibly holding onto a corpse that was about to return to the earth, having lost its ego and consciousness as a natural undead, and elevating it to a summoned undead. However..."
She looked at Manus’s skull with a complicated expression. "The moment you infuse it with Jet-Black and activate it, this undead uses all its resources to go berserk. In the end, it will even consume the summoning magic circle that sustains it and boil over."
Simon was silent.
"If it self-destructs like that, it will be impossible to restore it a second time."
Simon’s expression hardened. As it was, it was an uncontrollable, dangerous summon. Just as Pier said, it was closer to a mindless weapon of slaughter.
’But it’s also a fact that it’s a powerful material.’
This was an Ancient Undead that had been on par with, or even superior to, Prince. Seeing its immense power output now, his interest as a necromancer was piqued.
"So, what do you plan to use this for?"
"Ah, well..."
Simon replied with a bitter smile. "I’m thinking of making it the head of a Dullahan."
Benya’s jaw dropped in disbelief.
"You’re going to make a Dullahan with a Guardian’s body and Manus’s head?"
"Yes!"
"Think it over, my man."
Benya, having meticulously checked the seals on the basement, continued speaking as she climbed the stairs. "There are many ways to complete the Dullahan assignment. A Guardian is out of the question since it’s forbidden to be taken out, but I can use my connections to get you an A+-grade Ogre Lord or Abaddon corpse."
"Thank you for the offer."
Simon followed her up the stairs with a grin. "If my research fails, I’ll ask you then."
"Haha."
Benya’s lips curled into a smile, as if she couldn’t be helped. "I should have known from the time you made an undead from the bones of a Nether Whale calf and created exploding ghouls."
She lightly patted Simon’s shoulder. "You, my man, are truly the one who best embodies the spirit of the ’Mutants’."
"I’m honored you see it that way."
"Alright! I’ll support you with the materials you need to create that bizarre Dullahan!"
"Ah, if you’d do that, I’d be grateful!"
Simon bowed to her and opened the door to the clubroom.
"Ah, they’re out!"
"Mr. President!"
As soon as he opened the door, he saw the first-years gathered together like a flock of chicks.
"Mr. President! Senior Benya!"
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
"Are you okay?"
Simon smiled gently. "Sorry, did the sudden shaking surprise you? It was nothing serious."
Benya also grinned, her mouth wide open. "My little ones! Were you worried about us?"
A warm, friendly atmosphere filled the air for a moment. Fitzgerald, already pushed aside by the first-years’ attention, was off in the distance, swallowing his tears as he scribbled in a book.
"Simon. What’s under here, anyway?" Sasha asked.
Since it wasn’t something he needed to hide, Simon answered plainly. "The materials for the Dullahan I’ll be using for the midterms."
Gasps of admiration erupted from all around.
"A Dullahan! The headless knight, right? I know about them!"
"Do you get to make Dullahans when you’re a second-year?"
"I want to make one too!"
"You should fix your skeleton’s crab dance first."
"Agh! Don’t talk about that!"
Simon chuckled softly. Perhaps because he had confirmed Manus’s power, he was in a good mood today. "Shall we go over the problems you don’t understand, then?"
"Yeees!"
At Kizen, classes during the exam period were notoriously intense. Of course, Combat Magic, which was primarily physical, was no exception.
On a mountainside on Roc Island, Simon, dressed in his gym uniform, was running and panting for breath.
"We’re almost there! Almost there!"
"Juzt a little more! Keep it up, ztudentz!"
The theme of Professor Hongfeng’s Combat Magic class this time was a ’Comprehensive Obstacle Course.’
Simon looked back and said, "Hang in there, Kami!"
"Hah! Hah! Yes, Simon!"
Also in a gym uniform, she was running hard with her eyes squeezed shut. Simon encouraged her and looked ahead. Now for the next course.
Weapons of all kinds lined the shelves—a diverse collection of maces, spears, shields, bows, and whips.
"What’s with all the weapons?" a student asked.
"Look at this! It says to pick one per person," another pointed out.
The brief silence shattered as students surged forward, each scrambling to claim a weapon.
’A greatsword!’
Simon immediately spotted the weapon he wanted. He reached for the greatsword, its immense presence dominating the shelf, but just as his fingers were about to close around the hilt—
A large hand clamped down on it a split second before him.
"Predictable, aren’t you?" Hector sneered. He was also in Professor Hongfeng’s Combat Magic class. "Did you really think I’d let you use your main weapon?"
’Ugh!’
Having lost the greatsword by a hair’s breadth, Simon had no choice but to scan the remaining options. The students behind him were grabbing familiar bladed weapons, and Kamibarez had chosen a shield.
’As for me...’
There wasn’t much left. With no other choice, Simon picked up the whip, the most unpopular weapon the others had ignored. He gave it a few sharp tugs, finding it had a satisfying elasticity.
With a series of metallic clanks, the floor around them split open, and crossbow contraptions rose from below, taking aim. The students stumbled back in surprise, but thankfully, the loaded bolts weren’t real arrows; their tips were blunt.
"Looks like we just have to dodge arrows this time," one student remarked with a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness."
The students relaxed. After all, they could easily evade mere arrows with their bare hands, let alone with weapons.
"Team C, on to the next azzignment!" Professor Hongfeng’s voice boomed. "Only the ten ztudentz who ’zhoot down’ the mozt arrowz will pazz!"
They weren’t supposed to dodge?
Before the question could even fully form in their minds, a volley of arrows rained down from every direction.
"Argh!"
Students swung their swords and spears with clumsy, frantic movements, but hitting the narrow shafts of the arrows proved nearly impossible. Most failed to even block the ones flying directly at them, getting struck repeatedly until they were knocked to the ground.
Kamibarez, her face pale with fright, huddled behind her shield. Her small frame allowed her to completely disappear behind it, and by simply holding her ground and blocking the incoming barrage, she was already ranking among the top students.
"Damn it! I should’ve picked a shield instead of a weapon!" someone yelled in frustration.
"Kamibarez is so cute, even now!" another shouted.
Meanwhile, Hector was swinging the greatsword with wild abandon, the heavy blade whistling through the air. Though its blade was wider than the others, its sheer weight made it incredibly difficult to aim properly.
"Dammit!"
Hector hadn’t chosen the greatsword merely to spite Simon; he was confident in his own skill with the weapon. He had never, however, anticipated a challenge that required him to strike arrows from the air.
And then...
"Woooooah!"
"What the—? What’s with him?"
Simon was a whirlwind of motion. He had wrapped the whip in a filament of Jet-Black, giving him complete control over its arc as he lashed it out in all directions.
The whip cracked through the air with sharp ’thwacks’ and ’whaps’. He was effortlessly striking down not only the arrows aimed at him but also those flying past. With every crack of his whip, three or four arrows tumbled from the air.
"Son of a bitch!"
Watching this, black droplets began to seep from Hector’s body. It was Internal Jet-Black Eruption, a technique that temporarily enhanced his physical abilities. As Hector began swinging the heavy greatsword like a pair of steel chopsticks, Simon smirked.
"Won’t you get tired if you use Eruption so early?"
"Shut up!"
The other students cried out as the fierce competition between the two boys escalated.
"You crazy bastards! Watch where you’re swinging!"
Once again, the obstacle course had become a two-man show, with Simon taking first place and Hector a close second.
The next class was Divinity Defense, taught by Professor Parahan, a former priest. Stroking his long, sage-like beard, Parahan scanned the textbook and began to quiz the students.
"The meaning of the sign of the cross drawn up and down, as shown in the textbook’s illustration, is—"
Before he could finish, a hand shot up faster than anyone else’s.
"Simon Polentia. It means ’obedience to a superior’."
"And the meaning of the Garido?"
"Simon Polentia. It is the ’Liturgy of the Eucharist’."
"In this formula, the purpose of the Audio rune is—"
"Simon Polentia. It is an auditory-enhancement white magic of the Blessing series."
Just as in his first year, Simon dominated his second-year Divinity Defense class. The students from Class A were used to it, but the others were completely floored.
"How does he know all that?"
"...At this point, you have to wonder if he isn’t a priest himself."
Watching Simon steadily accumulate points and performance scores, Parahan let out a wry smile.
"Mr. Polentia, please see me after class."
"Yes, sir!"
After the final Divinity Defense class before midterms, Simon and Parahan headed toward the professor’s house, which was located far from the school grounds.
Parahan’s house was a long way up a mountain, but the walk was a rather pleasant hike.
"Why do you work so hard?" Parahan asked with a smile. "You’re bound to place first in Divinity Defense anyway."
There was no way the other necromancer students, who had only studied theory, could ever hope to beat Simon, who had not only visited the Holy Federation but could wield Divinity himself.
Simon smiled back. "I can’t afford to be complacent."
As they neared the house, a chorus of insistent meows echoed from the distance. Whitey and Blackey, the divine beasts Simon had adopted, had come out to greet him.
"Hey! Have you two been well?"
Simon ran over and scooped the two kittens into a hug. They squirmed, playfully batting at his hair with their front paws.
’Why don’t you visit more often?’
’You’re mean!’
It was as if that was what they were saying. Simon smiled and soothed them.
"Sorry, I’ve been incredibly busy. I’ll try to come more often."
Before he knew it, Akalion, the bear-like divine beast, had also padded over, rubbing its cheek against his leg.
Simon entered Parahan’s house with the three divine beasts in tow. As they talked over a simple cup of tea, Simon recounted the events in the Tower of Time, especially his experiences with Chaos and the Void.
"So your future self could wield that power freely," Parahan mused.
"Yes."
Simon summoned white and black energy into his palms.
"But I still can’t completely merge the two elements."
"Don’t be in such a hurry," Parahan advised, slowly waving the fan in his hand. "You haven’t fully mastered either Jet-Black or Divinity yet, have you? As your skills grow, the path to the Void will open naturally."
Simon nodded in agreement. Mixing Jet-Black and Divinity. The method sounded simple, but it was hard to even fathom the level of enlightenment and mastery it would require.
"In that sense, Divinity is the more urgent matter," Parahan continued. "Thanks to the divine beasts, your skill in Divine Beast Studies is high, but I haven’t taught you a single offensive divine magic."
"Ah, I do know one," Simon said, immediately casting the white magic.
’Lethe Original – La Escrime’
A line of Divinity unfolded, wrapping a band of blessing around the shaft of a spear and transforming it into the shape of a drill.
"My word, what is this technique!" Parahan exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Such a beautiful and efficient spell! A combination of Divine Mechanics and Blessing Studies! Yes, enhancing the simple performance of a Holy Spear-type spell with five kinds of blessings..."
Parahan was visibly excited; it was rare to see white magic of this caliber at Kizen. He paced back and forth, engrossed in observing La Escrime.
Simon watched him with his chin propped on his hand, then his gaze drifted away.
’Come to think of it.’
White clouds floated past the window.
’I wonder how Lethe is doing these days.’
The holy land of the Holy Federation and the main base of Efnel: Sky Island.
"Gratula mi cibilis."
"We greet the Goddess’s closest daughter."
"A blessing for my son who has gone to battle..."
The residents here were all bowing their heads deeply or prostrating themselves on the ground in reverence.
A gentle voice replied, "I will pray for your son’s safe return. The Goddess will surely watch over him."
On a path wiped clean of every speck of dust, a white-haired girl walked, leaving a trail of stardust in her wake.

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