Chapter 12

　　The first day for Kizen’s new students was over. Before heading home, the first-year professors gathered in the break room, sipping tea and discussing the new arrivals.

　　"Meirin Villenne was better than expected. She concocted a Shanif poison on the first day!"

　　"That bloodline is really something, isn’t it? All seven of the children are outstanding!"

　　"What about the official heir of the Ivory Tower?"

　　"You mean Serne? Do you even need to ask? The Ivory Tower had every reason to be so confident."

　　"And don’t forget Chatel Maer. There’s a prejudice that giant-bloods are lacking in magic compared to their physique, but he’s exceptional all-around."

　　"That being said, Professor, it would be a problem if you tried to snatch our Chatel away."

　　"Haha, listen to you. Acting like he’s already your student?"

　　"You know that making prior contact during the student protection period is against the rules, right?"

　　The professors chatted, exchanging jokes and engaging in subtle power plays.

　　"Hey, Professor Bahil."

　　Bahil, the Cursology professor, had been savoring his tea with his eyes closed. He nodded to show he was listening.

　　"You had Class A today too, right? How was it?"

　　"What are you referring to?"

　　"Come on, don’t play dumb. I’m talking about Special Admission No. 1, the one Lady Nephthys picked herself."

　　Bahil placed his teacup on the table, a placid smile on his face. "In my class, he lost to his opponent ten to one. I’m not yet sure if he’s much of a talent."

　　"…Hmm, that’s surprising. Still, for a Special Admission No. 1, wasn’t there anything special about him?"

　　It was a persistent question, but Bahil just smiled gently. "His stamina was good. He endured Exhaust nine times in the first class."

　　"Woah, nine times?"

　　"Stamina is an important quality, I suppose, but it’s a bit underwhelming for a Special Admission No. 1."

　　Just then, the door to the faculty lounge opened. Still disheveled, the Summoning professor, Aaron, shuffled in, dragging his slippers. He gave a slight nod to the others but seemed uninterested in their conversation as he headed for his coat on the rack.

　　"Come to think of it," Bahil began, his voice smooth as silk, "Senior Aaron, you also had Class A today."

　　All eyes turned to Aaron. He grabbed his coat, his expression blank.

　　"What about it."

　　"Special Admission No. 1. What did you think of him, Senior?"

　　Suddenly, every professor in the lounge was looking at Aaron, their eyes gleaming with curiosity—a silent pressure to spill the details. Aaron let out a quiet sigh and answered in his characteristic, languid voice.

　　"A dull talent. He had the creativity to make an original piece of junk."

　　While the professors began to murmur amongst themselves, a frightening grin spread across Bahil’s face, unseen by the others.

　　Is he putting up a smokescreen?

　　Having worked with Aaron often in the field, Bahil knew his tendencies better than anyone. If he truly disliked a student, he wouldn’t bother with ambiguity. A dull talent. Creativity to make a piece of junk. In a way, that was the highest praise Aaron could possibly give.

　　…This is getting more and more interesting.

　　A boy chosen by Nephthys and now marked by the notoriously picky Aaron. Bahil felt his initial assessment of Simon solidifying into a powerful conviction.

　　"By the way."

　　If that was the case, then the war had already begun.

　　"That declaration you made last year—that you had no intention of taking any more direct disciples. Can I assume that still holds true?"

　　Aaron, who had been about to leave, stopped dead in his tracks.

　　The other professors fell silent, their gazes shifting between the two men. A tense atmosphere suddenly crackled in the lounge.

　　"…P-Professor Bahil," the female professor next to him whispered, trying to intervene, but Bahil simply waited for an answer, a faint, knowing smile on his lips.

　　Just as Aaron was about to speak, the door clicked open.

　　"Hello, everyone!" a silver-haired girl chirped, bustling into the room.

　　"Lady Nephthys!"

　　At her appearance, the entire Kizen faculty—men and women who held sway over the continent—bowed their heads in profound respect.

　　"You’ve arrived." Bahil, ever the gentleman, was the first to approach her. He produced a chocolate ice cream cone from within his coat and offered it to her. Bahil was the only person in all of Kizen who kept ice cream perpetually stored in a magically frozen Subspace, all for the chance of an encounter like this.

　　"Oh, honestly! I told you to stop treating me like a little kid!" she chided, even as she snatched the ice cream from his hand.

　　"Preparing a snack for a lady is one of a gentleman’s virtues," Bahil replied smoothly.

　　"Hmph. You’re all talk." Nephthys took a bite, and her cheeks immediately flushed. Her expression melted into one of pure delight, befitting a girl her age. A few professors bit their lips, stifling the sacrilegious thought that the great Witch of Death was, in fact, adorable.

　　"Please, have a seat, Lady Nephthys." One professor quickly vacated his chair.

　　Nephthys grabbed the armrests of the oversized chair and scrambled onto it with a grunt. "Oof! So, how were the first-years on their first day?" she asked, licking her ice cream. The professors vied to report their observations. Their focus was not on the proven Special Admission students like Serne or Chatel, but rather on high-performing students like Meirin and Hector from Class A, and a student named Kaez from Class B.

　　Nephthys nodded, listening intently. "Yes, good, good! Report any problems that arise. As it is the first day, you are all dismissed early to rest."

　　"Yes, ma’am!"

　　"Lady Nephthy." It was Aaron, who had been silent the entire time. "I would like to speak with you alone for a moment."

　　The other professors’ eyes widened. While an audience with Nephthys was permissible for someone of their standing, it was exceedingly rare for anyone to so boldly request a private meeting.

　　"Alright, fine." Nephthys smiled faintly and hopped down from her chair. Aaron bowed his head once before following her out of the room.

　　Still so direct, Bahil thought, settling back into his seat and crossing his legs with a faint smile. But she won’t give you any straight answers.

* * *

　　With the day’s classes concluded, Simon’s first day at Kizen was officially over. He and Dick followed a servant toward the dormitories with the rest of Class A. A small problem, however, awaited them. Having stayed for the entire three-hour Summoning class, they arrived late to find most of the rooms already taken.

　　The dorm rooms were designed for three students each. Simon and Dick had agreed to be roommates, but every room they checked already had two or more spots taken.

　　"I-I’m so sorry," the dormitory staff member stammered, bowing repeatedly. "There are no rooms with two open spots on the second floor."

　　Seeing her sweating and apologizing for something that was not her fault, Simon waved his hands dismissively. "It’s alright, ma’am. You don’t have to apologize." He felt a bit uncomfortable being treated with such deference by someone older than him, but he knew that within Kizen, students outranked the staff. And since most students were prominent nobles, the staff’s humility was expected.

　　Dick, seemingly used to such situations, crossed his arms. "I suppose there are no rooms with two spots available on the third or fourth floors, either?"

　　"…No, the other floors are likely the same." The staff member showed them the second-floor roster. There were only single spots scattered here and there, all too far apart to be practical.

　　Simon and Dick exchanged a look. "What do you want to do?" Dick asked.

　　"Let’s check the other floors just in case before we decide."

　　Just as they were talking, a harsh voice cut through the hall. "Move!"

　　A loud thud echoed as a suitcase knocked the staff member to the ground. The brown-haired student pulling it scowled down at her. "What are you doing? I told you to get out of the way!"

　　"I-I’m so sorry!" the fallen woman cried, quickly bowing her head. The student’s friend snickered beside him.

　　The brown-haired boy ran a hand over his suitcase and his scowl deepened. "Seriously. You dented it. What are you going to do about this?"

　　"I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!"

　　"’Sorry’ won’t cut it. Follow me."

　　She was just pushing herself up, head bowed like a criminal, when Simon stepped forward.

　　"Excuse me," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I was speaking with her."

　　"…What?" the bully retorted.

　　The staff member’s eyes went wide. The brown-haired student let out a derisive laugh.

　　"Besides," Dick added, smirking as he came to stand beside Simon, "we all saw you bump into her on purpose."

　　"Have you bastards lost it?" the student snarled. "Who the fuck do you think you are, butting in?"

　　"Hey, hey, wait a minute!" his friend hissed, urgently grabbing his shoulder and whispering in his ear. "That’s him! The guy who gave the oath in the auditorium! Special Admission No. 1!"

　　"…Huh?"

　　The color drained from the bully’s face as he studied Simon’s. His eyes darted about in a panic before landing on the staff member. "A-Ahem! Be more careful next time! Let’s go!" As they practically fled, Dick clutched his stomach and roared with laughter.

　　Simon chuckled and offered his hand to the fallen woman. "Are you alright?"

　　She blushed as she took his hand to stand. "…Th-Thank you for helping me."

　　"Don’t worry about it. It was the right thing to do."

　　"My name is Lena! If you’re going to check the upper floors, I can guide you. I might be of some help."

　　"Oh, would you?"

　　The three of them headed upstairs. Lena moved quickly, gathering information from other staff members before leading them straight to the fourth floor.

　　"There’s exactly one room left on the fourth floor with two spots!" Lena called out as she ran, Simon and Dick close behind her.

　　"There’s a room?"

　　"Yes, you’re in luck! Room 409 was originally a quad, so it’s large, has a great view, and it’s a prime spot near the central staircase! I never imagined there would be two spots open there."

　　Soon, they arrived in front of Room 409. Lena checked the nameplate on the door, and her expression immediately soured.

　　"Ah…"

　　A shadow fell over her face. "What’s wrong?"

　　She turned to them with an awkward smile. "L-Let’s just find somewhere else. Rooms 412 and 413 only have one spot each, but they’re right next to each other…"

　　"Is there a problem with this room?" Simon asked.

　　Her face tensing, she gave a slight nod and pointed to the nameplate. "…Kajan Edvalt. He was a student here last year, too."

　　Dick’s eyes widened. "That can’t be. This is the first-year dormitory. The second-years don’t arrive until next month."

　　"Kajan was held back," she explained in a hushed tone. "I heard he caused some major trouble, and now he’s starting over as a first-year."

　　"Hmm." That seemed strange to Dick. Kizen didn’t hesitate to expel students for causing trouble or failing to meet academic standards. Being held back was exceptionally rare.

　　"Do you know why?" Simon asked.

　　"I’m just a dorm staff member, so I don’t know the specifics. But he’s notorious among us for causing all sorts of problems. His roommates often showed up with bruises or begged to be moved to another room."

　　So that was why this room had two empty spots. A flicker of fear showed in Dick’s eyes as he glanced at Simon. "Simon. Maybe we should just find another room…"

　　"I’ll just go in and say hello," Simon said calmly. "That should be fine, right?"

　　With that, he knocked and entered the room. A horrified Dick scurried in after him.

　　The room was quite spacious, clearly designed as a quad. It held a bunk bed and two single beds, each with a personal desk and wardrobe. The window offered a stunning view of Kizen’s sprawling campus, the distant mountains, and the valleys below. It was, as Lena had said, a prime location.

　　On the top bunk, a figure lay completely still, a white blanket pulled up over his head.

　　"Wait, Simon!" Dick whispered urgently. "You heard Lena! He’s definitely got a temper!"

　　Simon took a slow, steadying breath.