Chapter 534: Episode 534
It was a class where you had to master the ghoul’s Dirge through practical application alone, without any practice, just to get a ’Pass’. At first, the students seemed to struggle, but as second-years who had survived Kizen’s extreme competition, they had grit. They showed an uncanny ability to adapt to any given situation. On average, they mastered the Dirge after sacrificing about six ghouls.
The top-ranked students, as expected, were also skilled. Hector managed it with four ghouls, and Aseraz did it in an astonishing two. The most shocking performance came from Lorraine, who, despite being unable to use her innate abilities, put on a spectacular show by defeating the Modified Skeleton without using a Dirge at all, confident in her undead control.
When they first heard the explanation, the task had seemed like an impossible hurdle. The result, surprisingly, was a Pass for all fifty-two students. Even the student who performed the worst in this class managed to succeed with the Dirge, leaving just one ghoul to spare.
"Good work, kids!"
"You did well!"
The twin professors, Lin and Lune, gathered the students. Everyone’s mental state was in tatters, but their eyes were bright with the thought that they could safely participate in the practical exam tomorrow.
"There will be a practical exam using ghouls tomorrow afternoon!"
"Only ghouls with the stamp can be used, but if you want to prepare a little more, you can practice with regular ghouls!"
"That’s all for today’s class!"
"Bye-bye!"
The students bowed their heads. "Thank you for your hard work!"
---
The leaves were a riot of color.
Yellow and red, each with its own unique character, were gently falling.
’Rustle—’
Simon walked, stepping on the autumn leaves. Savoring the quiet atmosphere, he soon arrived at his destination. Before him was the massive skeleton of a dragon, buried in fallen leaves.
"Haha."
It was this year’s assignment: the Bone Dragon. No matter how many times he saw it, it was unbelievable, and no matter how many times he saw it, a thrill ran through him. Sometimes, when he wanted to draw strength or change his mood, he would enter this subspace that Nephthys had given him. Even without any summonological measures taken, a black aura was already shimmering from the dragon’s skeletal remains. What kind of creation would be born from such a magnificent material?
"I can’t even attempt it yet," he murmured to the bones, "but I’ll make sure to complete you, no matter what it takes."
The Bone Dragon was this year’s assignment. For now, he had to focus all his efforts on tomorrow’s ghoul performance evaluation. His resolve strengthened, Simon exited the subspace.
When he emerged, it was a dark night. Simon took out the marble he had been stepping on, placed it carefully in his pocket, and checked his watch. The time had finally come.
"Alright, let’s do this!"
Simon slapped his own cheeks with a resounding ’smack!’ The operation was a go.
---
Rochest, the students’ city. Though students eagerly awaited visiting Rochest on weekends, it was the largest city on Roc Island. On weekday evenings, however, it wasn’t very crowded, except for students who had snuck over the wall. At times like these, the residents’ parties would begin.
’Oom-pah, oom-pah—’
The sound of an old trumpet and a worn-out drum playing in harmony could be heard. The trumpet was played by the butcher from the shop next door, and the drum was beaten by the weaponsmith. Everyone enjoyed the rustic rhythm, raising glasses of frothy dark beer.
’Wahahaha!’
The place was filled with loud, boisterous laughter.
The Black Shark Tavern, located on the outskirts of Rochest. It was a tavern with a rather old-fashioned atmosphere, so it wasn’t a place students favored, but the residents of Rochest frequented it daily like regulars. The older servants from the school also visited often.
"Hahahaha!"
And there was one person who, in less than a year, had become a fixture of the Black Shark Tavern and its most undisputed star. A woman who had claimed a table for herself was drinking from a drum of dark beer she had stacked up.
The sight of her lifting the large, heavy drum with just her arm strength, opening her mouth, and pouring the dark beer straight down was astounding. The people watching chuckled.
"I see it every day, but I never get tired of it."
"Hey, drink slowly, Professor! You’re gonna suffocate! Hahaha!"
’Thud!’
She slammed the drum down on the table, her face flushed from the alcohol, and shouted, "Shut it! What I drink is my business, got it?"
It was Professor Byulya Toon Soqum Marlat, head of the second-year Venomology Department. The bearded man next to her held out his beer mug.
"Professor, are the kids still giving you a hard time these days?"
"Nah... It’s much better than when they were first-years! The kids have grown a year older and have some sense now." Byulya impressively lifted the entire drum and clinked it against the man’s beer mug. "Ah, but sometimes... I do wonder what kind of glory I’m chasing, leaving the plains to come to a place like this and play professor."
"Hahahaha! This lady’s lament is the same every day!"
"We’d be sad if you went back to the plains! The students’ evaluations are good, aren’t they? You should stick around for a long, long time!"
"Shut up, you bastards!"
’Hahaha!’
It wasn’t something one should say to a Kizen professor, the highest authority on the continent, but since they knew Byulya had a very easygoing personality, the residents spoke to her without any hesitation. Byulya herself preferred this atmosphere over the sycophantic bowing and scraping of the servants.
"Ah, but why does the booze taste so bad today!" Byulya, who had already emptied two drums, shook one and grumbled. "Hey, owner! What’s going on!"
The tavern owner just shrugged. "Professor, that’s from the same batch as the one you drank yesterday. You said it was delicious then, didn’t you?"
"Agh, I don’t know! It tastes bad!" She banged the empty drum on the table a couple of times, ’thump! thump!’, then carelessly rolled it onto the floor. Then she looked up at the ceiling with hazy eyes. "Sigh— For some reason, I really miss the plains today..."
"Hello, Professor."
Someone boldly walked up, pulled out a chair at the opposite side of Byulya’s table, and sat down. It was a man wearing a black robe.
"What do you want?" Her brow furrowed.
"I heard you say the drink tasted bad today." The man took a new bottle of liquor from his coat and pushed it toward her.
It was a liquor bottle shaped like a jar. The opening was sealed with paper and tied with a string.
"I heard that the Marlat people of the plains enjoy a special mare’s milk wine."
"You... what are you? How did you get this..."
The man took off his robe, revealing his face. A black-haired boy, still with a hint of youthfulness, smiled brightly.
"It’s been a while, Professor."
It was none other than Simon.
She snorted, then burst out laughing. "What in the world? Why are you suddenly popping out of here?"
"First, have a drink, and then we can talk. I’ll pour it for you."
Just as Simon was about to quickly prepare a cup, she slammed her hand down on the mouth of the liquor jar with a ’thump!’
"That slick bastard sent you, didn’t he? What’s he plotting?"
’Ugh.’
The "slick bastard" she was referring to was Dick Hayward. In fact, Simon had stopped by the student council room before coming here.
’—You have something to ask Professor Byulya?’
’At Dick’s question, Simon had quickly nodded.’
’—It’s obvious where that professor would be! She’ll be drinking herself silly at the Black Shark Tavern in Rochest. And this.’
’Dick took a small jar-like object from his desk drawer and handed it to Simon.’
’—I originally got this to use later, but I’m giving it to you specially because it’s you. If you pour her this, she’ll go crazy for it.’
’—But is it okay for me to use something this valuable?’
’—Hey... What’s with the formalities between us! Take it, take it.’
That was more or less the situation. Simon cleared his throat lightly in embarrassment.
"I-If it’s alright with you, there’s something I’d like to ask you about Venomology, Professor."
"Oho—" The corners of her mouth turned up, revealing sharp, triangular teeth like a shark’s. "A guy who didn’t even sign up for my Venomology class... what could he possibly be so curious about now?"
Simon’s smiling face stiffened. Was this rude of him after all? What should he say?
Seeing Simon’s flustered state, Byulya’s grin widened before she erupted into a booming laugh. "Relax, punk! I’m just messing with you!" She then slapped Simon’s shoulder hard a couple of times, making his body sway. "The top student of a whole year and the Student Council President! The fact that you’re still interested in Venomology is good news!"
She rested her arm on the back of her chair. "Besides, in addition to the Venomology Department, I’m in charge of Venomology for the entire second year! Even those who don’t take my class are my students! They have the right to ask me questions!"
With that, she untied the string on the liquor jar, grabbed it in one hand, and began to chug it down, gulp after gulp.
"Aaaah!" she exclaimed, letting out a satisfied groan like an old man and laughing as if a great weight had been lifted. A distant memory flickered in her eyes. "This taste... yes. This is it. No other rare liquor on the continent can compare." She slammed the liquor bottle down on the table and looked at Simon. "What do you want?"
As if he’d been waiting for that question, Simon opened his bag and took out a notebook. He then opened it and held it up for her to see.
"I’m making something like this!"
"Hmm—" She rested her chin on her hand and scanned the notebook.
"I can manage the Summoning aspects somehow, but... the part about handling poison is proving difficult."
She snatched the notebook from Simon’s hands and slapped it down on the table. Her eyes widened as she stared at it, as if she were about to be sucked into its pages. She was so engrossed she had even propped one knee on the table.
"Well, well." At last, an amused smile spread across her lips. She lifted her head and met Simon’s gaze.
"You get called a madman a lot, don’t you?"
"Ye-Yes? I mean, no."
"This isn’t the place for this. Follow me!"
Tossing the notebook into Simon’s arms, she put on her coat and stood up.
"If I’m going to help, I might as well do it right. To my lab!" he declared.
"Ah, yes, sir!"
---
The next morning, the dreaded day of the ghoul practical exam had arrived. The professors had been relentless, pushing the students through a gauntlet of ’Pass or Fail’ classes before scheduling the practical for the very next day. The test was simple: to see how much they could improve in such a short time.
Knowing this, the Summoning Department students had pulled an all-nighter, pouring every ounce of effort into practicing with and modifying their ghouls. The dormitory’s underground training room was packed with second-years, the air thick with a feverish, focused energy. Not a word was spoken; only the quiet, rhythmic scraping of tools filled the space. The exam was in the afternoon, but thankfully, the morning was free. They had to use every last second to maximize the performance of the ghouls they had gotten approved.
’Haaah...’
Will, a third-year who had returned to Roc Island the night before, stumbled into the training room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Huh? What’s all this?"
A few second-years with sunken, exhausted eyes glanced up at him.
"Ah, good... morning, Senior," they mumbled, their voices dry and raspy.
They greeted him like zombies before turning back to their work, some not even bothering to look up at all.
Will stared, a vein bulging on his forehead. As the self-appointed discipline captain, he took this as a personal slight.
"You lazy bastards! A third-year walks in, and you barely even look up? You call that a greeting? Maybe I should round up all the second-years for a little chat!"
His tirade was just getting started.
"I knew this would happen. I should’ve laid down the law during the welcoming ceremony...!"
"What are you doing?" a cold voice cut in from behind him.
Will flinched and spun around to find a female student standing with her arms crossed. Like him, her uniform collar bore the golden badge of a third-year. It was Benya Vanilla, ranked seventh in their entire year.
"After causing such a scene at the welcoming party, you still haven’t shaken that nasty habit of yours?" she asked coolly.
At the words "nasty habit," Will’s face flushed a deep red.
Benya pressed on.
"Besides, Leonard and the Student Council President made a promise, didn’t they? No more hazing the underclassmen."
"N-No, this is...! Dammit! They didn’t greet me, so I was just pointing it out!"
After the welcoming ceremony incident, Benya had apparently decided enough was enough and had begun actively protecting the second-years from Will’s bullying. Will had been forced to walk on eggshells around her, but his pride wouldn’t let him back down in front of his juniors.
"Still, there should be some basic courtesy between seniors and juniors! We’ve been lenient since the first day, and now the department has gone to hell...!"
"The second-years," Benya said, shaking her head, "have an evaluation this afternoon."
An evaluation. At that, even the ferocious discipline captain flinched.
"Ahem, is that so? Ahem! You brats! If you’d just said so earlier, I would’ve been more understanding...! Ahem! Anyway, good luck on your test!"
Will beat a hasty retreat, practically fleeing the room.
Benya shook her head again before turning to the second-years.
"My apologies for my classmate. Please, continue."
"Yes, Senior!" they replied in unison, resuming their work.
Watching them with a proud expression, Benya turned her head.
"You’re here."
Just then, Simon was entering from the opposite staircase. He bowed his head respectfully.
"Thank you for making time for me, Senior Benya."
"My commander called for me; of course I had to make time," she said with a small smile. "Shall we talk outside?"
"Yes!"