Chapter 785
With course registration over, today marked the official start of general subject classes.
The first class: Belya’s Toxicology.
“Make the antidote if you don’t want to die! Faster!”
On the very first day, Belya was already forcing students to ingest poison.
Some, like Simon, who hadn’t taken Toxicology in a while, instantly regretted signing up. The looks of regret on their faces said it all.
On the desks piled before them were mushrooms, black as coal. Each student had to consume an appropriate amount and concoct an antidote before the poison paralyzed their body.
‘This isn’t easy.’
Simon, sweating profusely, used his analysis kit and symptoms to select the right antidote ingredients and mix them together.
If one’s resistance was strong, they could buy more time. If one’s toxin-analysis ability was sharp, they could quickly brew the antidote and resolve the problem.
The balance between the two was crucial.
In real combat, such a situation could cost a life. Feeling the poison spread through his body in real time made it impossible not to focus. It truly felt like brewing medicine with one’s life on the line.
“Raq Stoneville, eliminated.”
Of course, this wasn’t truly life or death—it was still class. Teaching assistants roamed around, immediately disqualifying and antidoting students once their faces turned blue.
“Was it Raq? In a real fight, you’d be dead already.”
Belya slashed a finger across her throat as she approached.
“When paralysis symptoms appear, you switch immediately to an herbal base. Why would you keep going with a mushroom extract base? That kind of reckless approach is sheer stupidity.”
“F-forgive me, Professor…”
Disqualifications erupted across the room, yet Simon stubbornly worked on his antidote. He was about to finish when—
Crash—!
Suddenly, more mushrooms tumbled onto his pile. A disqualified student’s share had been dumped onto his.
Simon looked up in shock.
“P-professor?”
“I can’t help it. I want to spoil my favorite students with more.”
Belya grinned, shark teeth flashing.
“If you can’t finish them all, you’re not leaving this classroom alive.”
Sympathetic gazes turned toward Simon.
‘…Why only me?’
“If you want to beat that one, you’ll need at least this much! Don’t you agree?”
Simon almost protested at the unfairness, but in that moment of distraction, he felt paralysis creep up to his jawline. He forced all his focus into resistance.
And so the chaotic, nerve-wracking Toxicology class came to an end. But the same sort of ordeal awaited in Magical Combat.
* * *
Hongpeng’s Magical Combat class.
As always, it was held outdoors under the blazing sun.
Unlike Toxicology, which Simon attended alone, he had friends here. Dressed in training uniforms, Maelyn, Dick, and Kamibarez greeted him warmly.
After the usual grueling physical warm-up, the students lined up.
Then, stepping forward with blazing energy, Hongpeng announced:
“Today, we’ll be studying—”
Srrrng!
She raised something enormous and gleaming.
“—Weapons. Specifically, the greatsword, and how it applies to Magical Combat!”
Students gasped. The greatsword, due to its size and weight, was one of the hardest weapons to wield.
Most expected to learn it in their second semester’s latter half. But Hongpeng had decided to bring it forward, o start teaching greatsword techniques on the very first day.
‘Hmm…’
Simon scratched the back of his head uneasily. Of course he wanted to learn greatsword techniques sooner, but the timing felt strangely deliberate.
Regardless, Hongpeng pressed on.
“The greatsword is so massive it’s often called the ‘whale of arms’. One of its unique traits is that it can contain the largest amount of Darkness among all weapons.”
She lifted a greatsword larger than her own torso with the ease of chopsticks. In an instant, its white blade turned pitch black.
Then, stepping forward, she swung with her whole body.
Whoooosh!
A gale roared forth, whipping at the students’ hair and clothes. When it subsided, the trees behind her had been cleanly sliced, their pale growth rings exposed.
“Because the greatsword specializes in Darkness emission, many necromancers store one in their subspace as a trump card. Mastering greatsword technique not only enhances strength and stamina, but also trains efficient condensation and release of Darkness. It’s a universally beneficial practice for all necromancers.”
She lowered the blade, clapped her hands, and beamed.
“Don’t worry too much. The size of your greatsword will be adjusted to match your build and strength.”
Assistants wheeled in racks of greatswords, ranging from modestly sized to massive. The farther right, the larger and heavier they became.
“...Can we even lift those?”
“Even the smallest one looks tough to handle.”
Students’ eyes all darted to the leftmost sword—the smallest, and seemingly least intimidating.
“Alright, step up one at a time!”
Students queued before Hongpeng and her assistants.
At the desk sat the Magical Combat assistant, Bred, who announced dryly:
“Strength assessment begins.”
The test had two stages:
Pure strength—lifting a bar with red iron weights without using Darkness.
Internal Darkness Divergence—lifting a heavier bar with blue iron weights while channeling Darkness.
Based on these results, Hongpeng would assign each student a suitable greatsword.
“Of all days…”
“My wrist’s not in good condition today.”
Nervous whispers filled the line. Some boys even stretched frantically to loosen up.
And then—
“Simon! Listen—I just started a warehouse business, and I had so many boxes to move. I pulled an all-nighter, twelve hours straight! My arms are dead! If I’d known this was coming, I would’ve rescheduled!”
It was Dick, rambling about his unrelated woes. No one cared.
The assessments began.
“Whoa…!”
“How much is he lifting?!”
The top scorer was Hector, who managed 10 red weights and, with Darkness, 12 blue weights.
Earning a new record, Hector received the largest greatsword on the far right. His faction cheered, while Dick shook his head.
“They haven’t changed a bit since year one. As a fellow Class A student, I’m embarrassed.”
Maelyn shot back bluntly:
“The only thing embarrassing is your sword size.”
“Hey! I told you, twelve hours of heavy lifting!”
Dick yelped, hastily covering his modestly sized greatsword.
“Besides, people have different specialties! Judging a person by strength alone is narrow-minded, discriminatory—”
“Mmhm. Weakling.”
Maelyn’s curt reply crushed him flat. Dick slumped with a groan. It looked like he’d be stuck at the bottom of Magical Combat class for a while.
“C-cheer up, Dick.”
Kamibarez tried to console him—until a sudden cheer made her snap her head.
“Ah—Simon’s up!”
Everyone’s eyes fixed forward.
Simon rolled up his sleeves, brimming with determination, and seized the bar.
“Uwooooh!”
With pure strength alone, he lifted nine red weights. Not quite Hector’s ten, but still top-tier.
But the blue weights were the true measure.
“Insane…”
Using Darkness, Simon surpassed Hector’s 12 by reaching 14.
When Bred stepped forward to note it down, Simon spoke, sweat dripping:
“I can lift more.”
He pushed himself to 16 before stopping. The crowd roared, Simon had cemented himself as the rising rival to third-year Ballack.
Flushed with frustration, Hector demanded a retest, but was denied. Beside him, Dick snickered with barely contained glee.
“Then Simon Follentia will take this—”
The assistant moved to hand Simon the largest greatsword. But—
“Wait.”
Hongpeng cut in.
With one hand, she plucked another greatsword from the rack and held it out to him.
“Simon will train with this one.”
“Nn? Ah, y-yes ma’am.”
Simon thought he could handle an even heavier greatsword, but since Hongpeng said otherwise, he decided to accept it.
The sword was of moderate size and weight. Gripping it with both hands, he set himself into stance.
“……!”
It fit into his hands with uncanny perfection. Adjusting his hold, he swung it left and right with heavy arcs.
‘This…’
It felt nearly identical in weight and size to Feer’s “Greatsword of Destruction”. Excited, Simon swung it several more times before glancing toward Hongpeng.
She was smiling as she matched other students with their greatswords.
“Wow, your form already looks good!”
Maelyn approached, hands clasped behind her back.
Startled, Simon instinctively released the sword and tried to act casual. Cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
“What’s wrong, Simon?”
She blinked innocently at him.
“N-no, nothing. Just… heavier than it looks. Ha ha…!”
“E-everyooone!”
Just then, Kamibarez staggered over, struggling to carry the smallest-sized greatsword. Even that was so large that her whole body disappeared behind the blade.
“Kamiii, you’re adorable!”
Maelyn squealed and dashed toward her, while Simon followed with a smile.
Yes—Magical Combat class was fun when shared with friends.
* * *
That day, since it was the first lesson in greatswordsmanship, they only covered the basics: how to grip, how to stand, and how to hold the weapon properly. Satisfied, Simon finished class and parted ways with his friends.
Riding his Golem Board, he returned to the dorms.
“Simon Follentia.”
Someone was waiting at the entrance. The gold badge on his uniform marked him as a third-year.
“Ah, yes?”
“Come with me.”
He jerked his chin to the side. Simon frowned in puzzlement.
“What business do you have with me?”
The boy halted, sighed deeply, then scowled with irritation.
“You still think you’re the Student Council President, huh? When I say come, you come.”
He pointed to the armband on his opposite shoulder.
It was the armband of the Disciplinary Committee.
Simon hesitated, debating whether to follow—when,
‘!’
From behind the dorm, someone hidden gestured to Simon. Realizing who it was, Simon gave a small nod.
“Yes, let’s go.”
Simon silently trailed the third-year.
They arrived at the forbidden forest behind the dorm. Only the hoot of owls echoed faintly in the gloom.
“……”
Several third-years lounged casually around a clearing.
At the center sat one man.
“You came?”
He bared his teeth in a thuggish grin.
Simon recognized him at once.
Ranked 11th among all third-years, the military drill sergeant of the department, and the very instigator of the hazing scandal with Toto Amoriya at the start of term.
Will Douglas.
Will and his cronies looked full of themselves. Simon’s eyes dropped to the armband on Will’s shoulder.
‘I see.’
Understanding dawned, and Simon smiled calmly.
That smile made Will’s brow twitch.
“You can still smile in this situation?”
“What business do you have with me, Senior Will?”
“Not senior.”
He tapped his armband with a smug grin.
“You should address me as Disciplinary Chief, ex-president.”
It all made sense.
The Ballack-led student council had appointed Will to this post to keep Simon in check.
Back at the start of term, Will had tried to discipline the second-years but got humiliated by Simon instead. In grades, reputation, and connections, he always lost out to Benya Vanilla, another of their peers. Unable to touch the second-years since then, he’d been in hiding.
Now the student council had handed him wings.
‘This doesn’t feel like Ballack’s idea…’
It reeked more of vice president Sota Psyche’s petty scheming.
As Simon scratched his forehead in thought, Will suddenly stood.
“You know what my biggest regret at Keyzen Academy is?”
He ground his teeth.
“Not carrying out the hazing properly at the start. Thanks to Benya Vanilla protecting you brats, our whole 328th class looks weak.”
He grinned monstrously.
“But the power structure has changed now.”
“If that’s all you summoned me for, I’ll be taking my leave.”
Simon gave a light bow and turned—only for two third-years to block his path.
“You should see this first. As Disciplinary Committee, we received a report of your violation.”
From his robes, Will produced a photo taken by a magic recorder.
It showed Simon outside in Rochest, talking with Loraine, on the second day at Roke Island.
“You left campus without submitting an outing form and slipped into Rochest.”
Simon chuckled dryly.
That day, half the students had gone down to Rochest for supplies. Technically a violation, yes, but if enforced, half the school would be guilty.
A laughably petty trick.
And conspicuously, Loraine’s figure in the opposite seat had been cropped out—too risky to involve her.
“You’ll have to pay the price for breaking school rules.”
Will cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck with loud pops. Simon sighed.
“I think you misunderstand the role of the Disciplinary Committee… Chief.”
“…What?”
“Their primary duty is patrolling campus at night and catching violators. After the Dark Emperor incident, the Disciplinary Committee no longer has authority to summon or punish students. You issue demerits, or report them to Student Affairs.”
After all, the position of Disciplinary Chief was created by none other than Simon himself when he was Student Council President.
“If this is about me going off-campus without reporting, what about the fact that you forcibly dragged me to the forbidden forest without filing your report? Wouldn’t that justify me filing a complaint to the student council instead?”
Judging by their confused looks, the third-years clearly hadn’t known. They had just accepted armbands from Will without understanding the duties.
“Look at you, lecturing your seniors?”
Will’s face turned scarlet as he advanced.
“That might’ve been true under your council. Under Ballack’s new council, our jurisdiction will be expanded.”
He raised his palm.
Clearly, reason wouldn’t work here.
“Shut your mouth—”
“Will.”
A voice rang low from the darkness.
From deep within the forbidden forest, a figure in uniform strode forward.
Will recoiled like a thief caught red-handed, staggering back.
Simon smiled faintly at the sight.
“What are you doing here?”
The newcomer’s face beamed, but his expression was shadowed with menace.
“W-wait, Leonard…! This is, uh…”
Ranked 3rd among all third-years, the representative of the Summoning Department.
And one of Aizel Bringer’s closest friends.
Leonard Feiron.
His eyes spun with fury.
“Care to explain what the hell you’re doing?”
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