Chapter 31

　　What is the best way for my talent to blossom? The right way to utilize my unique Jet-Black?

　　Simon mulled over the question Bahil had posed, his gaze sweeping across the field of blue flowers that surrounded them.

　　"Professor," he began.

　　"Yes?"

　　"Do you have any feedback on the curse I just used?"

　　"Ooh." A smile touched Bahil’s lips. "A fine mindset. You are not letting success go to your head, choosing instead to reflect on your performance. Very well. If I had to point out one thing, it would be that your curses need a bit more emotion."

　　"Ah, like when I command an undead?"

　　For a fleeting moment, Simon could have sworn Bahil’s expression turned ice-cold. But when he blinked, thinking he had imagined it, the professor was smiling gently once more.

　　"Yes, something like that," Bahil affirmed. "Emotion is a crucial element in all forms of black magic." He removed the hand that rested on Simon’s shoulder. "Please, do not forget what we discussed."

　　With a sharp snap of his fingers, the boisterous chatter of the other students flooded back into Simon’s awareness. Bahil gave Simon’s head a light pat before turning to walk away.

　　"Professor Bahil!" Dick’s hand shot into the air.

　　Bahil paused. "What is it?" he inquired.

　　"Uh, could you help me, too? I’m having trouble making the flowers bloom…"

　　"Hoping to be spoonfed is the mark of an amateur," Bahil stated coolly. "Continue to try, again and again."

　　"Ah… Yes, sir."

　　As Dick awkwardly lowered his hand, Meirin, seated next to him, let out a derisive snort.

　　Still basking in the afterglow of his success, Simon focused his gaze and brought his hands together.

　　Alright. This time, I’ll do it on my own…!

　　By the time the class bell rang, Simon had perfectly mastered the Curse of Transference.

* * *

　　Next up was Professor Hongfeng’s Martial Arts class. As always, the students clung to their hippos as they were transported to a new location—this time, a clearing in a bamboo forest where a cool breeze rustled through the leaves. After their usual grueling run to warm up, Hongfeng began teaching them basic combat techniques like straight punches and kicks.

　　The students spread out, throwing fists infused with Jet-Black and extending their legs in sharp kicks. Teaching assistants moved through the ranks, correcting postures and offering tips on channeling their dark energy. And then…

　　"Here!"

　　Slap! Slap!

　　"Put more power into it!"

　　Simon, holding his own pose, felt his face burn. Professor Hongfeng was slapping his thigh with her palm.

　　"Your arm goez here! When you extend your leg, the oppozite arm actz az a pivot! Tighten your core! Tenze your ztomach!"

　　"Y-Yes, ma’am!"

　　It was an ordeal for Simon. While a professor touching a student during instruction was normal, for a boy in the throes of adolescence, having a woman as beautiful as Hongfeng pressed against him tested the limits of his composure.

　　"Zimon! Are you going to keep forgetting to put power in your toez?"

　　"My apologies!" Fearing another slap, Simon hastily corrected his posture.

　　Hongfeng crossed her arms and nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good. Prepare to rotate."

　　Simon moved, his left foot stepping forward.

　　"Channel the Jet-Black."

　　As Jet-Black flowed to the center of his waist, he began to rotate. His heel lifted from the ground, his hips and torso twisting into a perfect form. Then, his bent right leg snapped out.

　　Whoooosh!

　　His leg scythed through the air, the Jet-Black streaming from his foot painting a long, dark contrail against the sky. It was, in a word, a picture-perfect kick.

　　"Exzcellent!" Hongfeng clapped, a wide smile spreading across her face.

　　Simon, sweat dripping from his brow, bowed his head.

　　"You pulled off the roundhouze kick, but four of your fundamentalz were off," she critiqued. "Your gaze waz wrong, you didn’t uze your core ztrength properly, and your heel needz to rotate more. Alzo, you’re releazing the Jet-Black on impact too early."

　　"…My apologies. I will be more mindful."

　　"Mm! Ztill, you’re doing very well, Zimon. Keep practizing!"

　　She patted his shoulder and moved on to check on the other students, giving them a short break.

　　"Ugh…" Dick, sprawled on the grass, opened his eyes blearily. "Kami."

　　"Yes, Dick?"

　　"In Cursology, and now here… don’t you think the professors are favoring Simon a bit lately?"

　　Kamibarez, sitting demurely beside him, covered her mouth and giggled. "I wouldn’t call it favoritism, would you?"

　　"Mmm, still, it’s a little weird."

　　"Oh, you’re pathetic," a sharp voice cut in.

　　With a click of her tongue, Meirin approached, dressed in her gym clothes. Her sky-blue hair, usually worn loose, was pulled back in a tight ponytail.

　　"And you call yourself a Kizen student? Instead of whining with jealousy, you should be trying to get the professors’ attention yourself."

　　Dick smirked. "Jealous? I was just asking a question. Besides, you’re not exactly one to talk, are you? The great Meirin, who proudly dispelled the curse and just walked up the hill during our last class."

　　Meirin’s face flushed a deep crimson. "Ugh! Will you stop bringing that up?!"

　　"Nope. I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth," he sang. "And have you even said a single word to Professor Hongfeng this class? I’m telling you, you’re on her bad list."

　　"You’d better worry about your own head getting bashed in first," she retorted, lifting her foot in a mock threat.

　　Dick cackled and rolled away across the grass to escape.

　　"Honestly," Meirin huffed, then whipped her head around to face Simon. "Hey, you."

　　"What?"

　　"Teach me."

　　Simon shot her a look that clearly said, What are you talking about now?

　　Meirin blushed and cleared her throat. "You’re good at martial arts. Since Professor Hongfeng isn’t coming over, I’m asking you to check my form."

　　So that’s what she meant. When Simon simply smiled, a flustered Meirin quickly added, "Y-You know I’m the one facing the Cyclops in the performance evaluation, right? If you help me, my movements will improve, and then our team’s score will…"

　　"You don’t have to justify it. I will help you, so don’t worry." Simon stepped in front of her, a kind smile on his face. "Get in position."

　　Looking embarrassed, Meirin coughed again and muttered a quiet, "Thank you," that no one else could hear before awkwardly settling into a kicking stance. Simon crouched down, his eyes scanning her form from head to toe.

　　"It’s a mess."

　　"I-I know!" she shrieked.

　　Simon pointed a finger. "First of all, you’re too stiff. Your lack of confidence is obvious from your posture alone. Relax your body a bit and try to assume the stance more naturally."

　　She nodded and eased into a more comfortable position, the stiffness lessening slightly.

　　"Put your left foot back a little more, and lightly clench your fists in front… No, that’s your right foot. Your left foot is on the opposite side of the hand you eat with."

　　"I know that, you idiot!" she snapped, though she quickly corrected her stance. "I just got confused because I was nervous!"

　　"Gather the Jet-Black at your core and hold it there. Yes, that’s it. Now, put your weight on the ball of your foot and turn."

　　"Like this?"

　　"No, no. Don’t spin like a top. You have to twist using your core strength. And as you turn, the Jet-Black should move to the back of your thigh…"

　　"Here?" she asked, touching her leg.

　　Simon shook his head. "A little higher."

　　"Here?"

　　"No, that’s too far. A little lower."

　　"This is it, right?"

　　"That’s your knee."

　　"Agh, for crying out loud!" she yelled in frustration. "It’s not like my leg is bare, I’m wearing gym clothes! Just touch it!"

　　The shout, born of pure exasperation, was far too loud.

　　Touch it… touch it… touch it… Her words seemed to echo across the mountainside.

　　All around them, heads perked up like meerkats. The female students, ever hungry for gossip, began to whisper amongst themselves. Even Kamibarez could be seen demurely covering her mouth. Meirin’s face went scarlet as she waved her arms frantically.

　　"No, no! That’s not what I meant! I meant for him to fix my posture! My posture!"

　　But the truth no longer mattered. Watching the rumor spread like wildfire, Meirin’s expression went slack with shock. She whirled back to Simon.

　　"Wh-What are we going to do? Say something!"

　　"I do not know," Simon replied calmly. "But you told me to touch it, so that is what I am going to do." He strode forward and placed his hand precisely on her leg, over her uniform. "Gather the Jet-Black here." Then he grabbed her ankle. "As you turn, move it to this spot."

　　You absolute madman! she thought, her lips trembling as her face reached its absolute limit of redness.

　　"Just do as I say," Simon murmured, his voice low.

　　"H-Huh?"

　　"Getting flustered is only going to make it worse. The only way to clear up a misunderstanding is to show them the truth, right?"

　　With a perfectly placid expression, Simon stood and took hold of her arms and shoulders, adjusting her stance. Stunned, Meirin simply nodded and allowed him to correct her form. The students who had gathered to watch saw the exchange.

　　"Oh, he really was just fixing her posture."

　　"Meirin can be so dramatic."

　　"Simon is so kind."

　　Finally, with her form corrected, Meirin turned and kicked her leg high into the air. Her powerful leg soared upwards before she lost her balance and tumbled onto the grass with a soft thud.

　　Loud, cheerful laughter erupted from the onlookers. Simon chuckled, placing a hand on his hip.

　　"You have a long way to go, but that was a good start."

　　"…Ah, yeah."

　　Just then, a few of the female students who had been watching approached Simon, asking if he could teach them the kick as well. He smiled kindly and began correcting their postures.

　　…What in the world is he? Meirin wondered, biting her lip.

　　Eventually, the Martial Arts class came to an end. For the exhausted students sprawled on the grass, Kizen had once again prepared a teleportation circle.

　　"Meirin! I heard all about the rumor!" Dick sauntered over, cackling with his hands laced behind his head.

　　Meirin, who had been chatting with Kamibarez, shot him a venomous glare. "Don’t you start. Seriously."

　　"Hey, I’m not talking about you. I was just thinking about a friend of mine. If the words ‘touch’ and ‘posture’ were exchanged between a man and a woman, I wonder what kind of…"

　　"I said stop it!" Meirin yanked her bag from her Subspace and started thrashing him with it.

　　Dick yelped and fell to the grass, trying to scramble away as Simon and Kamibarez laughed aloud.

　　"Aargh! Aargh! Don’t just stand there, somebody stop her!"

　　"Let’s go, Kami," Simon said, turning away.

　　"Okay!"

　　The two ignored Dick’s plight and hurried to get in line for the teleportation circle.

　　"By the way, Kami," Simon asked, "do you remember what our next class is?"

　　"Oh! I do," she replied. "It’s Summoning."

　　A slow smile spread across Simon’s lips.

　　Finally!