Chapter 787
The second-ranked overall among third-years, a figure of interest, would be met later together with Leonard.
Since that day, perhaps thanks to Leonard’s efforts, school life flowed on without major incident.
The first class of the Northern Grand Duke Jin was also held. The students, dressed in gym clothes resembling military uniforms that had been distributed earlier, gathered at the outdoor training ground.
Jin appeared wearing sunglasses, tapping the palm of her other hand with her baton as she shouted.
“Before learning funeral rites, we shall lay the foundation first. In this first class, I will measure your abilities as summoners!”
The students had their skills tested.
How many undead they could control at once.
How far they could maintain mental contact with their undead.
And how precisely they could command the undead to carry out delicate tasks.
Once the measurements were complete, Jin told each student how to improve their abilities according to their level.
‘Seems like she teaches well, but…’
Simon could not take his eyes off Jin, anxiety gnawing at him. It felt like watching a child left alone at the water’s edge.
Especially because, as in the North, he worried Jin might suddenly smack a student on the back of the head with that baton in her hand.
Those students, though they looked ordinary in their loose gym uniforms, were mostly successors of high-ranking nobles or daughters of cabinet ministers. A single strike could trigger a diplomatic incident.
“Si, Simon has set a new record!”
A teaching assistant, holding a clipboard, cried out excitedly.
Simon, still staring at Jin, was casually waving his hand, guiding Bone Armor through rings and obstacles. While other students were struggling at the second stage, Simon had already rounded the halfway point.
Students who had started from the same line gave wry smiles.
‘We know he’s top-tier in skeleton restoration, but why isn’t he even looking forward.’
‘Annoying, but he’s good.’
Regardless of what others thought, Simon’s mind was wholly occupied with keeping an anxious eye on Jin. When she tapped a student’s neck lightly with the baton, he flinched, but thankfully, it was only to correct their posture.
The next exercise was measuring the range of mental command. Standing at the start line, without using other black magic, they sent a ghoul as far as possible and measured the distance.
Most ghouls stalled around the middle of the track, but Simon’s ghoul went more than twice that distance.
The results of training in the vast North were showing. It was truly remarkable progress.
‘No, Grand Duke, don’t…!’
Simon’s nerves were still fixated on Jin.
“Push it to the end!”
Unable to restrain her true nature, she began giving punishment exercises to students who showed unsatisfactory results. The students groaned under the extra drills, but their eyes were sparkling nonetheless.
“There must be a reason the professor is making us do this.”
“Of course.”
After finishing the punishment drills, the students came back out to measure the distance again.
And then they reacted in surprise.
“My record really improved! Guess this actually helps!”
“Told you, Northern Grand Duke! There’s always a reason!”
The rumor spread quickly among the students, and before measuring, it became a sudden fad to exhaust themselves with push-ups in advance.
With the punishment issue thus resolved, Simon was left a little dumbfounded.
‘…Truly, fame makes all the difference.’
The aura of the Northern Grand Duke was so overwhelming that students who at first had doubts ended up convincing themselves.
Besides, if one ignored the punishments, the classes themselves were flawless.
It seemed things could pass safely for now.
“Well, what do you think.”
While instructing students, Jin came over, poked Simon on the shoulder, and grinned.
Simon also smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
“As expected, you’re amazing.”
“This much is only basic.”
And, a little further away, Hector was massaging his neck, watching the two of them joking so familiarly.
* * *
Three weeks passed since the start of term.
To grasp the concept of undead armor, they had learned Death Armor. To study binding runes, they learned the Lake Bogey. To grasp the concept of magical distortion, they studied even the Black Gargoyle.
It was evident that compared to the first semester, the difficulty of the lessons had risen drastically.
Preview and review were not options but necessities. In particular, if one did not master the advanced review, it was impossible to follow the next class. Everyone stayed up all night studying in the dorms.
And today.
“Finally, today is the day!”
Aron announced the first class on Death Knight. The students entered the lecture hall one by one, their faces more solemn than excited.
“Ugh, I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Toto, seated next to Simon, rubbed his eyes as he muttered. Simon gave him a playful smile.
“You were sleeping fine when we rode my Golem Board.”
“S, sorry Simon! I don’t know why the drowsiness hit me just then…”
Eshu, arriving cheerfully, unpacked her bag and said.
“Everyone did a thorough review, right? From here on, even one mistake and the Death Knight is out of reach!”
Eshu snapped her head around and gestured toward Loraine.
“Lady Loraine! The three key elements of the Death Armor formula!”
Loraine brushed back her black hair and answered.
“Binding power, medium conversion, and load distribution.”
“Amazing!”
Eshu made a show of wiping tears from her eyes with mock emotion.
“To think Lady Loraine, who hated studying so much, has come this far! As a fellow classmate, I’m deeply moved!”
“I couldn’t just play around while everyone else was studying.”
Though she said that, it was clear that Loraine’s attitude had changed since the second semester.
In the first, sealed of her abilities by Neftis, she had often looked gloomy or dispirited. But after feeling the results of her efforts throughout the vacation, her attitude toward class had greatly improved.
Her ruby-red eyes turned toward Simon.
“And I can’t afford to fall behind Simon forever.”
Simon scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile.
“Not sure anyone at this school could even use the word ‘falling behind’ on you.”
“Oh my, are you talking about me now?”
A lilting voice came, and Serne walked in gracefully, waving her hand.
Toto tensed up instinctively, while Eshu greeted her brightly, though tension lingered in his eyes.
“……”
Loraine only wore a curt expression, but at least didn’t lash out as she usually did.
“Hehe.”
Serne sat down behind Simon as though it were her designated seat, bringing her hands together beneath her chin like a flower bud.
Recently, in the dynamic between Loraine and Serne, ever since Simon stepped down from the student council presidency, Loraine had been restraining herself, while Serne, teasing a little more, had gained the upper hand.
But, as though determined to say what she had to, Loraine looked at her.
“You skipped Funeralogy again yesterday, didn’t you?”
“I was sick. Must’ve caught a chill, I was burning with fever.”
Serne placed a hand on her forehead, feigning frailty. She was often absent from class or resting in the infirmary, complaining of headaches or dizziness.
A student in name only, in truth little different from the current Master of the Ivory Tower, no one could stop her when she said she was unwell. On top of that, Serne had no desire for grades or rank.
“In fact, just a couple of days ago, I went to greet Professor Jin about this.”
Serne gave a soft, lazy laugh.
“We even discussed exchanges between the North and the Magic Tower, and the sharing of personnel. After all, Carlos’ North, free from the influence of the North Star, is land with limitless potential.”
“…Don’t talk about diplomacy at school.”
“That’s exactly why I stay here in Keyzen. If anything, shouldn’t you pay more attention to internal diplomacy? Otherwise, foolish things like Simon’s student council incident will happen again.”
“You…!”
The two girls’ gazes clashed sharply.
As always, Simon, caught in the middle, suffered trying to read the atmosphere, while Eshu and Toto wore the look of people overhearing a conversation from another world.
“The professor is entering.”
At the teaching assistant’s announcement, the chattering students hurried back to their seats.
Simon, too, felt the troublesome thoughts of diplomatic disputes vanish from his mind, regaining his focus.
Yes.
From today, the Death Knight class begins.
“Quite excited, aren’t you, Simon?”
Serne’s lilting voice came as she touched Simon’s shoulder. Her hand slid down, brushing along, and she toyed with his neck.
Simon rolled his eyes at her, glaring.
“Serne.”
“I’m a little worried, you see, about this Death Knight class.”
“…What do you mean?”
“No matter how skilled Professor Aron is, with only the material covered so far, it’s practically impossible to instruct students in the creation of a Death Knight.”
Removing her hand from Simon’s neck, she propped her chin in her palm, smiling.
“How exactly does he plan to teach us to make a Death Knight? I’m looking forward to watching.”
And that opinion was not Serne’s alone.
Rumors that second-year Summonology students would attempt Death Knights had spread across the entire school. Other departments sneered, saying it was utterly impossible.
Even the third-years in the same dorm speculated cautiously that it would be too difficult.
—We’ve only just begun Death Knight creation ourselves, and the second-years?
—Second-years haven’t even learned the highest formulas yet, and obtaining the routes will be tough.
With so much doubt swirling, unease began to spread even among their peers.
Aron, by announcing Death Knight on the very first day of the second semester, had stirred the lecture hall, boosting the students’ morale and determination. But if he failed to take responsibility for his words, the result could only backfire.
‘Even so.’
Simon believed in Aron. Now, he saw him entering the lecture hall with his assistants.
Never one to look particularly neat, Aron nevertheless seemed far worse than on the first day of the semester. His face was gaunt, dark circles deep, his body thinner—he looked as if he had suffered through more than a month of sleepless nights.
“I’ll skip attendance.”
Taking the roll book from his chief assistant, Aron set it aside, then took a piece of chalk and approached the blackboard.
Tak-
Tak-
In the deathly quiet lecture hall, Aron pressed the chalk firmly, slowly writing out the letters. Just as on the first day when he had declared Death Knight, Simon’s heart pounded.
Chak!
<Introduction to Death Knight>
Aron let his hand drop, then turned to the students.
“I am aware of the anxious rumors circulating within the school. If I had nothing but empty words, I would never have spoken.”
Brushing aside the unkempt hair that covered one eye, revealing his forehead, he continued.
“I intend to stake my entire career on this class. You, too, must have the resolve to match. Will you follow me?”
“Yes!!”
The students shouted in unison. Aron nodded, moving the chalk again.
“The flower of summoners. No, the flower of necromancers. That is the Death Knight. As always, we begin with the origin of the Death Knight.”
He circled the words ‘Death Knight’ and drew two lines.
“To know its origin, one must go back to the ‘Age of Knights and Magicians’. Back then, ironically, it was the Empire that systematically nurtured and supported necromancers who delved into forbidden research in the shadows. Do you know what the Empire wanted from necromancers?”
Almost every student raised a hand.
It was clear they had prepared by previewing the material. Aron looked around the room, then, smiling faintly in surprise, called on a girl.
“Loraine Arkbold.”
She rose from her seat.
“The resurrection of dead knights. The <Death Knight Project>.”
“Correct. Sit down.”
Scattered applause echoed across the hall. Simon clapped the hardest of them all.
“In that age, knights were ‘everything’. A nation’s strength lay in the quality and number of its knights, and power was measured by how many knights one commanded. Of course, magicians existed as military force, but knights carried far stronger symbolism.”
Aron tugged one of the lines from ‘Death Knight’ downwards and wrote ‘Knight’.
“At the time, producing a single knight required immense resources and years. They were trained from apprenticeship for more than a decade with generous support. Yet, nobles and magnates could only grit their teeth as they watched their knights fall like flies in every war. Then, seeing necromancers raise zombies and skeleton soldiers, they wondered—why not resurrect knights as well?”
The students all nodded, pens scratching as they took notes.
“But what I’ve described so far is almost identical to the origin of the Dullahan. What Loraine mentioned earlier, the Death Knight Project, is a little different.”
He wrote ‘Death Knight Project’ on the board.
“This project was a secret imperial undertaking, personally sponsored by the Emperor. And it was not about resurrecting knights as undead—”
Turning to the students, his voice grew solemn.
“It was a forbidden attempt to resurrect the dead Swordmaster whom the Emperor loved. That, in essence, was the Death Knight Project.”
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