Chapter 14

　　The next morning, a new day began with three classes on the schedule.

　　The professor for Jet-Black Dynamics was a middle-aged man named Eric Aura. With distinguished wrinkles, a neat beard, and a relaxed demeanor that spoke of long experience, he exuded an air of competence that immediately won the students’ respect.

　　"Jet-Black is the foundation of a necromancer," he began, his voice commanding the room. "I cannot emphasize this enough."

　　Eric was a masterful teacher. His explanations were clear, his logic easy to follow. He lacked the flashy showmanship of Bahil from Cursology, but his lesson was clean and direct. Soon, the entire class was engrossed, learning how Jet-Black created the miracle of black magic, the principles of its flow, and the intricacies of the Runic language.

　　"The origin of the Runic language could be found in the ‘Eternally Burning Holy Fire’ of the Del Temple," Eric explained, weaving history into the theory. "For ages, people never questioned why the holy fire never went out. To doubt a miracle of God was considered blasphemy. Eventually, however, they noticed that the ashes falling from the fire formed shapes like ‘letters.’ They were horrified by the truth that mere symbols could create a miracle of that magnitude. This marked the origin of the Runic language."

　　He drew ancient runes on the blackboard, explaining how mages and necromancers had refined them over centuries, then smoothly transitioned to deciphering modern magic circles. He carefully broke them down, explaining why one would work and another would fail. Until now, Simon had drawn them by rote, but for the first time, he was beginning to understand the principles behind them.

　　As Simon frantically took notes, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson.

　　"That will be all for today," Eric announced. "You have an assignment. Choose one of the non-working magic circles we discussed. Propose modifications to make it functional, including all calculations and formulas used. The three students I call on next class will present their findings."

　　Thankfully, since Jet-Black Dynamics was a required major, Simon wasn’t singled out. He cheered inwardly.

　　"Wow, this class is so hard," Dick groaned, stretching as they filed out of the lecture hall. "It feels like studying arithmetic with my dad. Can’t we just memorize the magic circles like always? Why do we have to know every little detail?"

　　"I thought it was great," Simon said, crossing his arms. "I didn’t understand half of it, but I liked how he explained everything from the fundamentals."

　　"You just like everything about Kizen," Dick teased. "You were so fascinated by the soap in the bathhouse you were scraping it with your fingernail…"

　　Simon nudged Dick in the chest with his elbow. He let out an "Oof!" but couldn’t stop laughing. "You were scared of the bubbles! You were like, ‘Is it okay for me to go in here?’ Pfft!"

　　"I’m leaving," Simon replied sullenly, walking ahead. Dick quickly followed, insisting it was just a joke.

　　Class A had no break before their next lesson. A twenty-minute walk brought them to a desolate, empty field on the outskirts of Kizen.

　　"No one’s here?"

　　"Hey, over there…!"

　　As they waited, a thick cloud of dust rose from the forest.

　　THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!

　　The ground shook as if from an earthquake. A herd of several dozen hippos stampeded toward them. The students cried out and stumbled back.

　　"Ahaha! Hello, new students!" a man atop a hippo called out. He had dark skin and a slender body, and was dressed in simple, practical clothes, his feet bare. He skillfully brought the herd to a halt and jumped down. "Professor Hongfeng has decided today’s class will be on Mount Roc! Now, everyone, get on a hippo!"

　　The Combat Magic professor, Hongfeng Toon Soqum Marlat, was a renowned eccentric. Though Kizen had provided her with a lab and a residence, she preferred to roam Roc Island, camping wherever she pleased. As a result, most of her classes were held outdoors.

　　"…You want us to ride that?" a male student asked, looking disgusted at the snorting hippos. "Hey, servant! Shouldn’t you at least put a saddle on that beast?"

　　The man smiled brightly and walked over to the student.

　　And then—

　　"Ah, ahhhhhh!"

　　He lifted the student off the ground by his face with one hand. Gasps of shock erupted from the crowd.

　　"Wh-What are you doing?"

　　"How dare you touch a Kizen student!"

　　A palpable killing intent flowed from the innocently smiling man. The students who had started forward to protest froze in their tracks.

　　"Why are the new students so clueless these days?" the man asked cheerfully. "You should call me TA, not servant."

　　The student, finally grasping the situation, shouted frantically, "Aahh! I-I’m sorry!" An assistant teacher was almost certainly a Kizen upperclassman and a professor’s close aide—not someone a first-year could disrespect.

　　"Where’s the respect?"

　　"I’m sorry, TA!"

　　Watching the commotion, Simon shook his head. "Why do they act like that?"

　　"They’re nobles," Dick said with a shrug. "Raised like coddled flowers. They still have the habit of treating everyone like their personal servants. It’ll probably happen a lot at the beginning of the semester."

　　The explanation made sense. A moment later, the assistant teacher, his innocent expression restored, waved his arms. "Well, we’ve been delayed a bit. Everyone, please get on the hippos! Up to three people per hippo!"

　　The students scrambled to mount up with newfound urgency. Simon swung himself onto a hippo’s back in one fluid motion. Dick, however, slipped and struggled for a moment before finally pulling himself up. "Phew, class hasn’t even started and it’s already tough."

　　Behind him, Simon saw a female student hopping on the spot, unable to get on.

　　"Is everyone on? Then we’re off!" the assistant teacher called.

　　The girl’s expression turned to one of panic. Simon extended a hand to her. "Need some help?"

　　"Oh…! Thank you." She looked at him as if he were her savior and took his hand. With a firm pull, Simon hoisted her up onto the hippo’s back as if she were a paper doll.

　　"Alright, let’s go!"

　　The instant she was on, the assistant teacher kicked his hippo’s flank. The lead animal let out a cry and charged forward, the rest of the herd thundering after it. The girl let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks for your help! I’m—!"

　　Her words were lost as the hippos suddenly picked up speed. Other students clung tightly to the beasts’ backs, their faces pale. The ride was jarring, the vibrations rattling their bones.

　　"T-TA!" one student yelled. "I’m going to fall! What do I hold on to?"

　　"Anything!"

　　"It’s too fast!"

　　"Guts! Overcome it with guts! This is part of your training!" the assistant teacher shouted back, balancing perfectly with just his legs. "Of course, if you fall and get trampled, you’ll die! We lose one or two students like that every year, you know?"

　　"…What?"

　　The students couldn’t believe their ears.

　　"Hold on! Hold on! Kizen has no need for students who can’t even ride a hippo properly!"

　　"Agh, whoa!"

　　"Moooommy!"

　　"Hey, stop! Stop this fucking thing!"

　　"Hahahahahaha!"

　　It was a class of pure, unadulterated madness.

* * *

　　They finally arrived. Beyond a dense grove of trees lay a wide-open field in the middle of a mountain. The sun hung high in the sky, and the air was filled with the harmonious symphony of chirping birds and buzzing insects. It was an incredibly beautiful place.

　　"Hah… Hah… Fuck…"

　　"Ugh, huuuuh…"

　　Of course, that beauty was lost on the students, who were all sprawled on the grass, completely drained. The assistant teachers handed out water canteens.

　　What is this? Simon took a sip. The drink was sweet with a slightly spicy aftertaste, and it instantly quenched his thirst and washed away his fatigue.

　　A flock of white birds soared overhead.

　　"Welcome to my class, everyone!"

　　Simon turned his head. Beyond the birds, a tall woman walked toward them, her arms spread wide. She had healthily tanned skin and a toned, muscular body. Her hair was intricately braided in a peculiar style. The students scrambled to their feet.

　　That’s her.

　　Hongfeng Toon Soqum Marlat. A legend who had single-handedly faced the mega-undead monster, the Kundaar Hydra, and after a five-day battle, had broken all one hundred of its necks. She was an eccentric, but her skills were beyond dispute, which was why Kizen tolerated her oddities.

　　Forest birds flew down and perched on her outstretched fingers.

　　"Now, everyone ztand up, pleaze," she said, her speech marked by a halting accent. "Form up in four zingle-file linez."

　　The students stared blankly until her assistants clarified. "Please form up in four single-file lines."

　　"Move it, move it."

　　The students lined up, bewildered. Hongfeng stood at the front, flanked by her assistants.

　　"Then we will ztart."

　　Start what? The moment Simon thought it, Hongfeng took off at a run. The students at the front scrambled to follow, and an unexpected marathon began.

　　"A healthy body houzez a healthy zpirit!" she called out, her accent thick but her meaning clear. "The foundation of Combat Magic iz a ztrong phyzique!"

　　She gradually increased her speed, and the students struggled to keep up. Simon, running in the third row, watched her with admiration. Amazing. He had never seen anyone run like that. The angle of her feet, the movement of her muscles, the perfect stability of her upper body—it was so flawless it gave him chills. How could she move like a being from another dimension?

　　"Hah! Hah!"

　　While everyone else gasped for breath, Hongfeng slowed her pace just enough to continue the lesson, explaining the basics and spirit of Combat Magic. It was a discipline that involved reinforcing the body with Jet-Black to fight at peak physical limits. Masters of the art could even manifest their Jet-Black as a tangible garment known as the ‘Black Robe,’ the ultimate symbol of a Battle Necromancer.

　　"There are many treez. Be careful!" she warned as the run continued into a dense forest.

　　The formation broke as students dodged trees. A few, clearly Combat Magic aspirants, took to the branches, leaping from limb to limb. An assistant teacher jumped up and gave them a thumbs-up, and their faces lit up.

　　"I’m jealous of the Combat Magic kids. Ugh!" Dick grumbled as a branch smacked him in the face.

　　Hmm. Simon watched them, intrigued. A combat-specialized black magic that used the body… he felt a definite stir of interest.

　　"Ugh! Hah! Hey, Simon! Are you okay?" Dick panted, his face beet red.

　　Simon blinked. "Huh? Oh, I’m fine."

　　"Hah! Huah! How do have so much stamina…?!"

　　"Doesn’t everyone run like this?"

　　For Simon, who had treated the rugged mountains of Leshill like a neighborhood park, this was nothing. Even the assistant teachers were sweating, but Simon’s expression remained perfectly serene.

　　This class is fun, too!

　　Like a fish returned to water, Simon reveled in the physical exertion. And from the front of the pack, Professor Hongfeng watched him, her eyes sparkling.