Chapter 707
“Hard to believe, what a story.”
The professor of Defense Against Holiness, Farahan, was the same as ever.
Dressed in robes like a sage, stroking his white beard, he looked at Auror lying asleep in bed.
“You’re saying a spirit was written upon this child?”
“Yes, I saw it clearly.”
—Nyan! Meow!
As Simon answered, his cats, Whitey and Blackie, who were overjoyed to see their master after so long, were biting at his hair and ears.
“Let me have a look.”
Since using holy magic directly on a necromancer was dangerous, Farahan used a device powered purely by mana.
After a moment, Farahan let out a surprised murmur.
“As you said, I can feel traces of the spirit, the root of it still lingers.”
Hearing this, Simon grimaced.
He had beaten her down so thoroughly, yet it still remained.
“Can’t we just erase it right now?”
“Spirit magic is not a matter so easily solved, one wrong move and this student might become irreversibly damaged.”
Farahan stroked his long beard and closed his eyes.
“Rather than trying to forcibly treat this student, it is more important to find and eliminate the cause that made her this way.”
The cause, huh.
Indeed, there was no way Auror, who had been fine, would suddenly go mad and rampage for no reason.
“Do you have any guess what it could be?”
“Spirit and necromancy differ by only a fine line, it is highly likely that, due to her being of the Banshee Clan, her racial traits allowed the spirit to latch on. If you could find a trustworthy authority in Spiritology, you might gain some valuable clues.”
Simon crossed his arms, sinking into thought.
A trustworthy authority in Spiritology?
* * *
First-year campus, Spiritology lecture hall.
“Now, with grit! Put your whole spirit into it and focus, arghhh!”
A man stormed around the classroom, yelling at the top of his lungs.
His upper body looked human, but from the waist down he was ghostlike, floating about. Upon his face, he wore a bizarre wolf mask.
This eccentric man’s name was Umbra. He had taught Simon Spiritology in his first year, and was the one who had greatly aided him in establishing Chaos Reaper and other chaos magic.
‘Ah.’
Peeking in from outside, watching the first-years take the Spiritology class, Simon couldn’t help but give a wry smile.
‘Brings back memories.’
The first-years were straining themselves, trying to feel the basic ‘Spirit’. They spun Ouija-board-like artifacts, or shook occult tools with all their might.
Nearly half of the first-years were dancing at the back of the wide lecture hall, performing the so-called “Dance of the Soul”, which was said to help in sensing spirits.
‘Ugh, that dance.’
Memories of his own hardships during those days resurfaced, and suddenly his stomach churned.
Among the students, the dance was mockingly nicknamed the “Chicken Peck Dance” or the “Squid Courtship Dance”.
“Professor! No matter how hard I try, I can’t feel the Spirit!”
A girl, dancing in tears, cried out. Umbra roared back.
“Grit! You still lack grit! Put more fire in your spirit, lift your legs higher! Higher! Until your knees touch your navel! That’s it!”
Umbra made them continue until it worked.
In the end, Simon had failed to sense the Spirit in Spiritology and abandoned the subject from his second semester onward. Of course, later he managed to wield something similar in the form of Chaos, but still.
As Simon endured this sudden flood of nostalgia in real time—
“What are you doing here?”
A strange voice called from behind.
Turning around, he saw a woman, who looked to be a teaching assistant, eyeing him warily.
“I, I was just—!”
“Oh!”
Recognizing Simon’s face, she broke into a warm smile.
“Long time no see, Student Council President! I’m Professor Umbra’s head assistant.”
“Ah, hello!”
“I still remember how hard you worked back in first year, even if you couldn’t feel the Spirit. You’ve grown so much in the meantime.”
“Ahaha, thank you.”
Simon gave an embarrassed laugh.
“But what brings the Student Council President to the first-year campus?”
“I came to seek advice from Professor Umbra, do you know when the class will end?”
She chuckled and gestured toward the lecture hall.
“If that’s the case, you can just go right in.”
“R-really?”
“Of course. Right now, they’re just starting to feel the Spirit, and the professor’s only job is to stomp around and shout.”
Simon didn’t have much time, so he gladly accepted the offer and opened the classroom door.
The first-years seemed far too busy dancing or fiddling with their occult tools to notice anything else.
Then—
“Huh?”
“That person…!”
One by one, the students began recognizing him. The murmuring spread, louder and louder, until—
“The Student Council President is here!”
The lecture hall exploded in cheers.
The other first-years, hearing the shouting, sprang up, and even those who had been dancing or working with artifacts rushed over.
“W-what’s going on? Everyone, back to your seats!”
“Who came in?”
The assistants tried to control the chaos, but it was hopeless. Simon could feel his popularity among the first-years firsthand.
Umbra, hearing the uproar, turned his head, then broke into a wide grin upon spotting Simon.
“Ohhh, you!”
“Hello, Professor Umbra.”
He had only meant to slip in quietly, ask a question, and leave, but now he felt guilty for interrupting class.
Umbra, however, laughed heartily and dragged Simon to his side as if delighted by the interruption.
“Alright, everyone, attention!”
“Attention!”
The first-years shouted back in unison, their eyes shining brightly.
A level of focus not normally seen in class.
“This friend here, who is now your Student Council President, once took my class as a first-year! An outstanding student!”
Simon gave Umbra an uneasy look.
‘Outstanding? I couldn’t even feel the Spirit…’
“Especially his skill with the ‘Dance of the Soul’! I can still remember it clearly! The way he stomped and flailed his arms with such passion, hahahaha!”
The first-years stared at Simon, unable to even picture such a thing. Simon felt his face burn red.
“Anyway, from back then, I knew this one would grow into someone great! Though he lacked talent for sensing the Spirit, he never once slacked in effort, not in the smallest of things!”
Thump thump!
He smacked Simon heartily on the back and raised his voice.
“Grit! Effort! Fire! Willpower! Success or failure doesn’t matter! What matters is your attitude and the process! You must all follow this senior’s example, and focus on sensing the Spirit until the very last day! Understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
The first-years roared back. Umbra turned again.
“Lastly, do you have any words for your juniors?”
“Uh, well.”
The first-years’ eyes sparkled as they awaited his response.
Simon gave an awkward smile.
“Dancing’s tough, isn’t it?”
“Yes!”
“Just endure until the finals.”
“Wahahahaha!”
Even at such a trivial joke, everyone burst into loud laughter.
So this was the power of fame, huh, they say once you’re famous you can get applause just for sleeping.
“But what brings you here, lad?”
“Ah, I wanted to consult with you about something.”
Umbra straightened his shoulders proudly as if to say look at me, then gave a nod.
“Let’s go to my office upstairs. Assistants! Keep controlling the students and finish their training!”
“Yes!”
Umbra went ahead, Simon followed after.
At once, several first-years rushed toward Simon.
“Student Council President! Is it true you’re resigning?”
“Even if the third-year top student has returned, this isn’t right! It can’t be!”
Shouts rang out here and there, clearly, the duel between Simon and Aizel was a hot issue among the first-years too.
Some even asked who would win if he fought Aizel, only after the assistants stepped forward and sternly intervened did the fervor die down a little.
Meanwhile, Umbra and Simon stepped out of the classroom.
“Hohoho! What popularity you have!”
Umbra laughed heartily.
“You really lift my spirits! Thank you for coming to see me.”
“It’s nothing, sir.”
“Well then, what is it you want to know?”
As they headed to Umbra’s office, Simon explained the general situation, though he deliberately did not mention Auror’s name, and added that it should remain confidential.
Listening carefully, Umbra spoke.
“There is a theory forbidden both in the Dark Alliance and in the Holy Federation.”
Clack.
Umbra opened the door to his office.
“The root of both Spiritology and Spiritism lies in the ‘spiritual body’, fundamentally the same.”
“…Ah.”
“Wraiths and holy spirits are one and the same, a spirit and a divine revelation are equivalent, the only difference lies in whether the medium that calls upon them is Darkness or Holiness.”
Rustle, rustle.
Umbra kept speaking as he rummaged noisily through his drawers.
“Especially in the Holy Federation, since it contradicts their dogma, they foam at the mouth to deny it, the Alliance’s Spiritology Association is no different. Of course, both magical systems developed along different paths, but the more I research Spiritology, the more I believe this theory is not mere nonsense.”
He stroked his chin with his fingers.
“The Banshee Clan’s racial trait is simply the ability to become a spiritual body, the tales of marrying a banshee and bearing children are nothing more than legend.”
After a while, he pulled something out of the drawer.
It looked like a pair of goggles.
“What is that?”
“An artifact that shows the flow of spiritual bodies, I’ll lend it to you.”
Simon received the artifact from Umbra.
“With this, you should be able to see the flow of spirit magic as well, and if that child has been influenced by it, there must be a powerful medium controlling her!”
“A powerful medium, huh.”
Simon pondered for a moment, then smirked.
“Somehow, I can picture it already.”
* * *
That evening.
After finishing all his classes, Simon returned to Rochest, where Auror’s lodging was.
Auror was still resting at Farahan’s home.
Creeeak—
Opening the door and stepping inside, Simon saw the mess left from the chaos of yesterday, candlesticks and trays scattered about.
He looked around once, then approached the wall where the cross was drawn.
“Still frightening to look at.”
The eerie cross drawn in blood from broken nails.
Simon put on the artifact Umbra had given him.
“…Ah!”
The surroundings turned hazy, and from the cross stretched an extremely faint, fine thread drawn into the air.
Simon followed the thread.
Step, step, step.
His pace quickened, he followed the line from Auror’s third-floor room all the way down to the first floor.
At last, Simon’s steps stopped before a dusty storage room on the first floor, the thread continued into the floorboards.
‘It’s urgent, nothing else to be done.’
This was official duty, after all, and if needed, he could simply pay for the damages later.
Drawing Darkness into his legs, Simon stomped hard on the floor.
Crack! Crack!
The wooden floor collapsed, revealing a pitch-black hole.
The line continued below.
Without hesitation, Simon descended.
‘Hm.’
Thick air filled his lungs, damp moisture seeped in.
It was an underground space.
Landing on the ground, Simon surveyed his surroundings.
‘An old sewer, looks quite ancient.’
The student city of Rochest wasn’t very large, before Rochest was built, there had been a small village of island natives, this was the outdated sewer system they had used.
Currently, Rochest used the clean sewers newly provided by Keyzen, the old ones had been abandoned with the outskirts of the city.
‘Still, it’s the perfect place to hide something.’
Simon advanced along the thread, since the place had been disused for so long, there was no stench, everything had dried up.
He thought he might have to walk for a long while, but the response came quickly.
‘Holiness!’
He stopped immediately, readying for an attack, a white magic circle drawn on the wall activated, and a golem of pure Holiness was summoned into the sewer.
Its form looked like a monster built from shards of shining glass.
‘Looks like I’ve found the right place.’
A holy summon designed to block intruders.
It approached with heavy thuds, Simon tensed and gathered Darkness when—
Rumble, rumble, rumble!
Suddenly, a great tremor shook the ceiling above.
“?”
Glancing up, Simon quickly leapt back.
Crashhh!
The ceiling collapsed entirely, burying the holy golem under the falling debris.
From the broken ceiling hung jagged icicles, and from there, someone leapt down.
“…Hm?”
Simon blinked. That person also looked at him, mouth open in surprise.
“S-Simon? What are you doing here?”
It was none other than Maelyn.
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