Chapter 29

　　"Run!" Simon yelled, grabbing Kamibarez’s hand and pulling her with him.

　　At the same instant, a chilling whoosh tore through the air behind them.

　　KABOOOM! BOOM!

　　Black crosses, forged from pure darkness, slammed into the ground, gouging out massive craters. Simon’s eyes widened in shock.

　　A Priest is using Jet-Black?

　　The situation had just become infinitely more serious. This wasn’t merely a Priest hiding on Roc Island.

　　There’s a traitor inside Kizen!

　　Two facts led him to this horrifying conclusion. First, Jet-Black and Divinity were mutually exclusive forces; a person could only wield one. Second, this Priest was using Jet-Black, the power of a necromancer. This meant they weren’t an outsider who had infiltrated the island, but someone who lived and operated within Kizen itself. Almost certainly a spy from the Holy Federation, leaking Kizen’s secrets.

　　No one at Kizen prayed to a god. That’s why the Priest had ventured deep into the Forbidden Forest, where no one would find them. And he and Kamibarez had stumbled right into their sacred ritual.

　　The conclusion was terrifyingly simple.

　　If we’re caught, we’ll be killed.

　　Swish! Swish-swish!

　　A barrage of Jet-Black crosses rained down. A searing pain shot through Simon’s arm and thigh as they were grazed by the dark energy.

　　Huff! Huff! He ran, gasping for breath, when his eyes caught a sudden movement ahead. Something was slithering toward them like a snake.

　　"Watch out!" he shouted, throwing himself backward. A pitch-black chain shot out, narrowly missing his head. As he straightened up, he turned to his side. "Are you okay—!"

　　She was being pulled away from him.

　　"S-Simon!"

　　A chain had wrapped around her leg. They both reached for each other, their fingers brushing empty air. She was dragged backward at a terrifying speed, disappearing into the darkness.

　　"Ugh!" Simon cried out, sprinting after her. He found her slumped against a tree, unconscious, her body tightly bound by the black chains.

　　Kami’s been captured!

　　He gritted his teeth and spun around. The robed Priest was approaching slowly, their face still hidden in the deep shadow of their hood. Their baggy robes concealed their gender and build, offering no clues to their identity.

　　The Priest raised their left arm.

　　Simon instantly used a burst of Jet-Black to dodge behind a tree. The chain slammed into the trunk and ricocheted away.

　　This was clearly a master. Dozens more crosses materialized in the air. The sight of a Priest’s cross being formed from a necromancer’s Jet-Black created a sense of dissonance that Simon couldn’t quite process. The Priest lowered their palm toward the ground, and the crosses shot forward as one.

　　Nngh!

　　Simon pulled a skeleton’s shortsword from his Subspace and charged. The crosses embedded themselves in the ground like tombstones. At the last possible second, a black trajectory shot toward his side.

　　Clang!

　　He swung the shortsword, parrying the cross. A jarring shock ran up his arm, and the blade shattered into pieces.

　　Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!

　　Chains shot out from his left and right simultaneously. Simon dropped so low his face nearly touched the dirt, grabbing a loose stone as he did.

　　Imbue Jet-Black!

　　The stone turned inky black. As he straightened up, he hurled it with all his might.

　　Swissssh!

　　He watched it fly, his heart pounding with a desperate hope. Hit! Reveal your face!

　　The Priest, seemingly not expecting a counterattack, tilted their head a fraction too late. The stone tore a small gash in the right side of their hood, but that was all.

　　Though he couldn’t see their face, Simon could feel a wave of pure fury emanating from the figure. Even more crosses materialized in the air, forming a deadly canopy that extended far beyond his immediate position. There was no escape.

　　"Oof."

　　Simon closed his eyes as if in resignation, raising his arms to shield himself. And then.

　　Now!

　　From behind the Priest, a massive greatsword materialized out of thin air.

　　A deafening roar ripped through the forest. The Priest was thrown backward, having barely managed to form a shield of Jet-Black to avoid being cleaved in two. The crosses they had summoned scattered, dissolving into ash as they hit the ground.

　　[Huhuhuhuhu! Are you alright, boy!]

　　Pier appeared, baleful blue flames blazing in his eye sockets. He towered over two meters tall, a formless cloak fluttering on his back, a pure white greatsword clutched in his hand. The Priest was visibly shaken by the sudden appearance of an Ancient Undead.

　　Pier!

　　[Stay back! This one is still too much for you to handle!] Pier declared, raising his massive greatsword into a ready stance beside his head.

　　Simon nodded obediently. I’m counting on you!

　　[hahahahaha! I can’t even remember the last time I had a proper battle! Here I come!]

　　Pier stomped, shattering the ground beneath him, and shot forward like a bullet. The Priest threw up another Jet-Black shield.

　　The collision of shield and greatsword sent a shockwave through the clearing. The very air screamed, and the ground buckled. Trees were ripped from the earth, roots and all. This was no longer a fight Simon could join.

　　Casting aside any lingering hesitation, he turned and ran to Kamibarez. Pier’s surprise attack had apparently canceled the chains as well; she was free from her bonds, slumped on the ground.

　　"Kami!"

　　Fortunately, she had only passed out from the shock and seemed otherwise unharmed. Simon swiftly lifted her into his arms. He was struck again by how unnervingly light she was.

　　The debris of a large boulder crashed down beside them, and Simon scrambled for more distance, retreating into the shadows as the two titans clashed.

　　The very ground warped and buckled with every clash between Pier and the Priest.

　　What’s the situation, Pier? Simon projected, his thoughts laced with urgency.

　　Pier’s mental voice returned, strained with effort. [Ugh! This isn’t easy! The bastard… his command of Jet-Black alone is absurd! He could be on par with a professor!]

　　Even for an Ancient Undead, Pier’s power was severely depleted from having just been freed from his seal. More importantly, he was the Administrator of the Legion—a manager, not a frontline combatant. If his opponent was truly on the level of a Kizen professor, this was a fight he was bound to lose.

　　Simon bit his lip. There has to be something. He couldn’t bear to lose one of his father’s undead so senselessly. There has to be a way…!

　　As he frantically searched for a solution, an idea struck Simon and his eyes widened.

　　Pier! Disengage! Buy as much time as you can and make as much noise as possible!

　　[What?]

　　No time to explain! Just do it!

　　Trusting Simon’s judgment, Pier broke away from the Priest without a word. He began to raise a deafening racket, swinging his greatsword to send columns of earth erupting into the air and cleaving the atmosphere to produce thunderous sonic booms. To the Priest, it must have looked like a desperate, pointless waste of energy, but it was their only chance.

　　It didn’t take long.

　　A voice shouted in the distance. "Over there! I heard something from that direction!"

　　"Sounded like an explosion!"

　　Lights bobbed in the darkness. Simon clenched his fists. It worked. The guards, drawn by the commotion, were finally here. Hours ago, they had been a source of terror; now, he had never been so relieved to see them.

　　The Priest, who had been systematically cornering Pier, spotted the approaching lights as well. More witnesses would only complicate matters. He abandoned his assault and vanished back into the depths of the forest.

　　"Don’t chase him, Pier!" Simon yelled, running to his side.

　　Panting, Pier planted his greatsword in the ground for support and managed a grim smile.

　　"Are you okay?" Simon asked, catching his own breath.

　　[This is nothing!] Pier projected. [More importantly, if we stick around, we’ll just be trading one problem for another.]

　　"You’re right."

　　The baying of hounds and the glow of lanterns were nearly upon them. With a grunt, Pier scooped Simon and the unconscious Kamibarez into his arms.

　　We’re leaving! Hold on tight!

　　He launched himself from the ground, soaring into the night sky. The world below became a blur as they shot away at incredible speed.

* * *

　　Pier flew them clear of the Forbidden Forest, setting them down in a spot where Kizen’s towering walls were visible.

　　This is as far as I can go, he announced, gently placing them on the ground. I sense a cloying magical presence. It seems they have some kind of wide-range detection ward.

　　Simon nodded. Kamibarez still hadn’t stirred.

　　"Thank you, Pier. You saved us."

　　A booming laugh echoed in Simon’s mind. [Hah! I can’t very well lose my new commander so soon after finding him! Get inside safely!]

　　"I will. Thanks again."

　　With that, Pier melted back into the shadows. Going through the main gate would mean a lengthy interrogation, so Simon opted for the stable tunnel they had used to escape. He climbed the ladder, pushed aside the straw covering the entrance, and poked his head out.

　　"Ah, you’re back?"

　　Kevin, the stablehand, spotted him while watering the horses and offered a smile.

　　"Has Dick returned yet?" Simon asked.

　　"No. The grounds are swarming with guards, so he wouldn’t have come this way. He’s probably taking a longer route to circle around."

　　"I see. Thanks."

　　Kevin gestured toward Kamibarez, cradled in Simon’s arms. "Is the young lady all right?"

　　"We had to push ourselves a bit to get away from the guards. She’ll be fine."

　　Mimicking Dick, Simon flicked a coin from his pocket as a tip—a silent request for discretion. Kevin’s face lit up as he bowed deeply.

　　After leaving the stables, Simon faced a dilemma. If he went to the central infirmary, he would undoubtedly be questioned about their injuries. Telling the truth about a midnight battle would inevitably involve the professors and staff. He couldn’t be sure if the Priest had seen his face, but it was likely he hadn’t gotten a clear look at Kamibarez. To keep her safe, he needed to find someone trustworthy to treat her wounds.

　　Someone trustworthy…

　　Nephthys was the safest bet, but he had no idea where she was. After weighing his options, Simon made a decision and started walking.

* * *

　　Kizen Boys’ Dormitory 1, Duty Office.

　　Lena, the dormitory manager, let out a massive yawn and slumped over her desk.

　　"I haaate night duty…" she grumbled.

　　Cleaning and laundry, cleaning and laundry, cleaning and laundry. Her official title was dormitory manager, but she could never get used to waiting on pampered young nobles. Her eyes fell on a messy report, and she let out a bitter laugh.

　　"Bringing female students into the dorms for a three-on-three… what? Ugh, these kids are insane."

　　The students these days had no redeeming qualities. When she’d threatened to report them to their supervising professor, they had the audacity to immediately start throwing their family names around.

　　"Ugh, I just want to quit…"

　　Knock, knock.

　　A sharp rap on the door broke her reverie. Who could that be at this hour? she wondered, rubbing her eyes.

　　"Come in."

　　The door clicked open to reveal a male student carrying a female student in his arms. Lena’s eyes shot open, and she leaped to her feet.

　　"Not again! A girl in the boys’ dormitory! What does this mean—!"

　　Her tirade cut short when she recognized the boy. His uniform was caked in mud, and she could see fresh, bleeding wounds.

　　"Oh… S-Simon?"

　　"Please, I need your help," Simon pleaded, his voice strained.

　　Lena scrambled to clear a pile of junk off the cot in the corner of her office. Simon gently laid Kamibarez down.

　　"What on earth happened? You shouldn’t have brought her here! You need to get to the infirmary—!"

　　"It’s… complicated," Simon said, his expression hardening. "I can’t explain the details, but we can’t go to the infirmary."

　　Lena fell silent. She was in her fourth year as a Kizen dormitory manager. Lured by the high pay, she had taken a job so infamous that ninety-five percent of new hires fled within a month. In her four years, she had seen it all and understood the darkness that festered within Kizen’s walls.

　　The students would do anything to survive.

　　Anything.

　　Avoiding the infirmary to prevent a black mark on one’s record was practically a rite of passage here. She heaved a deep sigh.

　　"Get out."

　　"Huh?"

　　Lena gave Simon a firm push toward the door.

　　"W-Wait a minute, Lena! I—!" he stammered.

　　"I need to treat the girl’s wounds, so get out!" she snapped.

　　"Oh…"

　　While Simon awkwardly scratched his head, Lena grabbed a first-aid kit, set it by the cot, and then yanked a privacy curtain shut with a sharp swish. A moment later, Simon heard the soft rustle of Kamibarez’s uniform being removed.

　　A weary sigh drifted from behind the curtain. "Alright, tell me the truth. What happened? She has scrapes and a skinned knee, but this wound on her thigh…" Her voice turned cold as ice. "This looks like she was cut by something sharp."