Chapter 401: Episode 401

Simon and Bahil sat facing each other.

“I thought you were with the other students for the promotion exam, Professor.”

“My duties there are finished, so I returned,” Bahil replied smoothly. “I heard Hector came in first place.”

After a few more pleasantries, he cut straight to the point.

“How was it?”

“P-Pardon?”

“During the incident, you must have used ‘Compellonia’. Am I wrong?” His voice was thick with anticipation.

Simon hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I used it.”

The instant the words left his mouth, Bahil’s face twisted into a grotesque mask of ecstasy. Simon flinched. The man who had always been so gentle and kind was now revealing something raw and unfiltered.

“It is done! Hahahahaha!” he roared, bursting into laughter.

His body contorted as he howled, spittle flying from his lips in a sound like a shriek from the depths of hell. Simon could only stare, his pupils trembling at the sight of this stranger wearing his professor’s face.

“Then you must have seen it!” Bahil shrieked. “The grand collection of all knowledge that lies beyond the door!”

Agitated to an extreme, he began spewing words like a machine gun, his gestures wild and exaggerated. He spoke so fast that Simon could barely grasp it all.

’Bookshelf. Library. Librarian.’ He repeated these words like a mantra.

’Something’s wrong,’ Simon thought, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. ’I used ‘Compellonia’, but I never saw any of those things.’

Bahil, lost in his own tirade, shot to his feet. “My ambition is the same!”

His eyes gleamed with a fanatical light. “I will place a curse on this world.”

’Huh?! A curse on the world? What does he mean?’ Simon instinctively held his tongue, waiting for him to continue.

“Of course, it won’t be easy. But if you and I join forces, it will be possible. A power that can alter the very rules and laws of existence! It is truly…” He spread his palm open dramatically. “The power to rule the world.”

The pace was dizzying. “Do you want to rule the world, Professor?” Simon asked, trying to ground the conversation.

“Don’t be absurd. I am a necromancer to the core. I have no interest in politics or governance. I am merely curious to see how far I can push the boundaries in the time I have. And…” Bahil’s eyes seemed to glow. “By cursing the world, we can build a more ideal society.”

“…An ideal society?”

“For example, we could cast a curse like: ‘Death to all murderers.’ Imagine it! We could prevent countless tragedies like war and massacres.” With an enraptured expression, he went on, “We could eliminate hypocrisy and lies. We could end famine and poverty. A utopia will be born. And we, in the truest sense…” His voice dropped to a sweet, seductive whisper. “We will become the gods of this world.”

Simon closed his eyes. He understood Bahil’s ambition, but the logic was full of holes. The professor had confessed these dangerous ideas because he was utterly convinced Simon would understand and agree. Why?

“Professor.”

Simon lifted his head, his gaze steady. “I understand now. It seems you and I are headed in different directions.”

Bahil’s face fell, his expression one of pure shock. “Different? Why? How could that be? Don’t tell me you were lying about using ‘Compellonia’!”

“I most certainly used it.”

“Then, the librarian of the bookshelf…!”

“That’s just it,” Simon interrupted calmly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

At that, the crazed look on Bahil’s face finally cracked, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.

“You… didn’t go to the librarian’s study? Then what in the world did you see?”

“The vision I saw after activating ‘Compellonia’ was darkness,” Simon explained in a flat, emotionless voice. “And within it resided a being capable of everything, yet doing nothing.” He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle in the silent room. “A being I could only describe as ‘God’.”

’THUD.’

Bahil stumbled back, his spine hitting the wall. He slid down, collapsing into a heap on the floor.

“You… went beyond the study? There was something ’after’ that?”

Simon sat up straight, his posture rigid. “It is true that I survived thanks to the ‘Compellonia’ you taught me. You are my benefactor, and I am truly grateful. However…” After a deep bow, Simon met his gaze again. “It seems your reasons for teaching me this technique weren’t born of pure goodwill after all.”

“Huh…”

“I plan to seal ‘Compellonia’ from now on. And I will pretend I never heard this conversation about your ambition.” With that, Simon delivered the final blow. “My apologies.”

He had officially rejected Bahil’s offer of direct discipleship.

—

Bahil staggered from Simon’s hospital room, making his way toward his laboratory. His gait was erratic, like a man drowning in drink.

’I was more certain about Simon Polentia than anyone,’ he thought, his arm trembling as if from a drug’s side effect. ’Whenever I heard people call him a genius, I scoffed. I felt so superior. Simon is so much more than that. The word ‘genius’ is too small. He is a paradigm-shifting existence! I am the only one in this world who truly understands his value! That’s what I believed.’

He stumbled, catching himself before slamming his fist against the wall with a loud crack.

’But!’

His vision swam.

’”—a being I could only describe as ‘God’.”’

With bloodshot eyes, Bahil clawed at his head, his sharp nails tearing his scalp and drawing blood, but he didn’t stop.

’To think that even I… even I was underestimating that boy!’

His failure stemmed from a single, fatal assumption: that Simon had opened the door of ‘Compellonia’ and entered the study. If Simon had reached that cradle of rationality, he would have understood that curses were the most efficient means of changing the world. He would have embraced Bahil’s ambition. ’I am the only one who understands you. You are the only one who can understand me.’ That was the bond they should have forged.

But Simon had gone beyond the study. He had likely bypassed all the subsequent stages and reached the absolute end, coming face-to-face with that entity.

A terrifying question arose.

Who in God’s name was Simon Polentia? Was he even human?

“Ha… Hahahahahahaha!”

Now, even Bahil could no longer comprehend him.

—

The first-year students were due back in two days. While the top rank of the replacement exam was decided, it would take more time to calculate the detailed scores for the middle and lower-tier students.

Simon continued to recover in the ward. His goal was to be discharged in time for the promotion ceremony.

’Hector took first place,’ he mused.

One final event remained for his first year. Hector wouldn’t back down, regardless of Simon’s condition. And truthfully, Simon felt a strong desire to settle the score with him before the year was out.

To defeat Hector at his peak without Herseva…

’Mastering ‘Chaos’ is essential.’

Simon held out his hands. He had learned a new technique from Parahan: ‘Holy Blood’, a spell that mixed Divinity into blood to rapidly circulate it through a patient needing a transfusion.

He held out his left hand, drew blood with a magic circle, and mixed in Divinity. The red liquid swirled into a faint pink. Then, with Cloud forming in his right hand, he slowly brought his hands together.

’Sssssssss!’

Though Jet-Black and Divinity were antithetical, both Cloud and Holy Blood were based on Simon’s unique SM-1 blood. The two energies clashed, churning into a roiling storm before finally coalescing into a single sphere. The pink of the Holy Blood deepened into a vibrant violet.

A smile touched Simon’s lips. ’Perfect.’

‘Chaos’. He thought the name fit rather well. Even as a single entity, the magic continued to mix and break apart without any discernible pattern, like a miniature purple typhoon held in his palm.

He had managed to get this far in the night since Parahan taught him the ‘Holy Blood’ technique. Now, all that was left was to find the golden ratio. Parahan’s expression when he’d first seen ‘Chaos’ had been a sight to behold.

’—I will send a trustworthy person tomorrow morning. Show ‘Chaos’ to him. He will help you brainstorm its applications.’

It was almost time for that person to arrive. He focused on the footsteps in the hallway as he continued to refine his new power.

’I wonder who it is… Who could possibly help me figure out how to use ‘Chaos’?’

’KNOCK, KNOCK.’

The sound came without warning. Caught off guard by the silent approach, Simon jumped, hastily dispersing ‘Chaos’ into the air.

“C-Come in!”

’SCREECH.’

The person who opened the door was the last one he ever expected.

“Hahahaha! It’s been a while, Simon Polentia! Not since the first semester!”

A man with a blurry, translucent body floated in mid-air, his legs trailing off like a ghost’s tail. It was the spirited Spiritology professor, a man Simon hadn’t seen all semester.

“P-Professor Umbra!”

Having been unable to sense Spirits in the first semester, Simon had dropped the class for the second. The professor’s visit was a complete surprise.

“Yes, I remember you from my class!” Umbra boomed. “Couldn’t feel a single Spirit, but you were a master at the dance of consciousness!”

Simon’s face flushed. “Uh, um…”

“Hah! No need to be embarrassed about dropping my class!” Despite his ghostly lower half, Umbra was a boisterously cheerful man. “More importantly, Professor Parahan told me you have something to show me!”

“Ah, yes, sir.”

’Why Professor Umbra, though?’ Simon wondered. ’What does Spiritology have to do with ‘Chaos’?’ Puzzled, he decided to demonstrate the magic anyway.

’I can’t let him see me using Divinity.’

He conjured Cloud in his right hand to draw the professor’s eye, while discreetly creating ‘Holy Blood’ with his left hand behind his back. Then, he brought them together. After a moment, the violet typhoon swirled into a sphere in his palm.

“It’s a new technique based on my Cloud. I call it ‘Chaos’.”

“Hmm…!”

Umbra’s eyes widened as he examined the sphere. “Indeed! Indeed! Now I understand what Parahan was talking about! May I take a closer look?”

“Of course.”

Umbra summoned several magic circles, running a series of diagnostic checks.

“Truly fascinating!” he declared with a grin. “Yes, I’m sure of it! Although it’s temporary, this undoubtedly possesses the properties of a Spirit!”

Simon’s head shot up. “A S-Spirit?”

“Yes! Astonishing!” Umbra clarified that it didn’t have the same ghostly effects as a true Spirit—the fundamentals were different—but it was compatible. “You were taught what a Spirit is during the first semester, correct?”

“Ah, no, sir.”

All he remembered was being told to feel a Spirit first, which had led to endless, bizarre dancing and sessions with a ouija board.

“Then I shall explain it slowly! Oh, this is exciting.” He puffed out his chest. “Since you’re a Summoning major, let’s frame it this way. You know what ghost-type undead are, correct?”

“Of course! Banshees, wraiths, phantoms, and the like.”

“Precisely! You can find common wraiths in old ruins or abandoned houses. Think of a Spirit as the very substance that constitutes those undead!” He spread his hand, and a magic circle flared to life. “Spiritologists can convert Jet-Black to create this ‘Spirit,’ a substance that can contain a soul! Using this technique to wield the power of ghost-type monsters… that is…”

’FWOOSH!’ A transparent spear shot from the magic circle. ’Black Magic indoors!’ Simon flinched, but the spear simply passed through the wall and struck a distant tree.

“…the basis of Spiritology!”

“Ah…!”

It had passed right through the wall—the physics-defying power of Spiritology.

“That technique of yours, ‘Chaos’, seems to manifest an effect beyond ignoring physical laws! And I’ve discovered its compatibility with spirit magic!” Umbra spread his arms, and ten magic circles made of Spirit materialized in a row. “These are some of the core Spiritology spells! If we can determine which ones work and which ones don’t, we can chart a course for your training.”

“Oh…!”

Umbra was practically vibrating with excitement. Feeling a bit awkward, Simon asked, “Are you sure it’s okay for you to help me? You must be busy.”

Umbra slowly lowered his arms. “To be frank, Special Admission No. 1 is a special existence to the first-year professors.”

He confessed that he’d always felt a pang of regret watching Simon excel in BMATs using skills from Summoning, Martial Arts, and Cursology. He’d been so envious when Aaron and Walter had completed the Blood Golem, playing a part in Simon’s success. His only regret was sending Special Admission No. 1 on without equipping him with a single Spiritology technique. ’If only Simon had a talent for Spiritology, too,’ he had often thought.

“But life is fun because you never know what’s around the corner!” Umbra bared his teeth in a wide grin. “To think that you, Special Admission No. 1, would manifest an ability compatible with Spiritology right here!”

“…Haha.”

Umbra clenched his fist. “There’s not much of the first year left, but I have to ask. Don’t you have some lingering attachment to the Spiritology you had to skip?”

Simon nodded vigorously. “It’d be a lie to say I don’t.”

The seven major subjects: Cursology, Jet-Black Dynamics, Summoning, Spiritology, Hemomancy, Venomology, and Combat Magic. He had come to Kizen with the dream of mastering all seven, and it had always been a sore spot that he’d had to abandon one due to a lack of talent.

A spark of understanding passed between them.

“Now, let’s begin,” Umbra declared, spreading his arms wide. “Let’s see just how far you can go!”

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