Chapter 406: Episode 406

’Did I eat too much last night?’ Richard mused, rubbing his stomach as he walked. Anna had gone on a rare rampage in the kitchen the previous evening. He was heading back toward the Grand Auditorium where Simon would be waiting, trying to soothe his bloated stomach, when a jet-black streak of energy shot through the air with a ’whoosh’.

Richard quickly turned his head to dodge, but the attack wasn’t aimed at him. It tore through the illusion magic spread out before him and vanished.

“I knew something was strange.”

A hand clamped down on Richard’s shoulder from behind.

“I thought I’d seen you somewhere before.”

Richard only moved his eyes to look over his shoulder. He saw a massive build, an extremely well-trained body, and burns covering the man’s upper torso. An ominous jet-black energy pulsed around him. At a glance, it was clear he was no ordinary necromancer.

“…What is the meaning of this, accosting me so suddenly?”

“That’s what I’d like to ask you.”

The man’s eyes flashed.

“I’m curious why you’d need a perception-warding spell just to attend Kizen’s promotion ceremony.”

A perception-warding spell didn’t so much change a face as it did curse others, preventing them from recognizing it.

It was a form of black magic often used to avoid recognition.

“Have we…” The veins on the man’s neck bulged, turning a deep red. “Met somewhere before?”

The man plucked the fake beard from Richard’s chin and held it up to his eyes.

“A fake beard, I see.”

Richard secretly channeled jet-black energy into his fist, poised to strike.

“That’s enough.”

“Enough?” the man scoffed. “Is sneaking onto Lok Island under a false identity a moderate act? Considering Kizen’s recent security breaches, I hardly think my actions are unwarranted. Now, it’s time to take off those glasses.”

The man’s hand shot out. Just as Richard was about to swat it away and bury his fist in the man’s ribs…

“WHOAAAA!”

A thunderous roar erupted from the Grand Auditorium. As a crowd of students came into view, both men froze.

“A duel! It’s a duel!”

“Hector Moore and Simon Polentia are about to throw down!”

“For real? Where?”

The hand reaching for Richard’s glasses fell away. The man’s face turned crimson, veins throbbing at his temples.

“HECTOOOOOOOR!!” he bellowed, a sound like a thunderclap. Richard winced, subtly casting a spell to protect his hearing as the force of the shout sent spiderweb cracks across the nearby pillars and walls. “How much more are you going to disgrace our family name?!”

The man sprinted toward the students with terrifying speed. Richard let out a quiet sigh of relief and reattached the fallen beard.

’The Moore family, was it?’ he mused. They were one of the most dangerous families he had to avoid, a group that could never learn his true identity as the Commander of the Legion of Betrayal. More importantly, he had heard Simon’s name.

’What have you gotten yourself into now, Simon?’

—

At that same moment, Simon and his friends arrived at the designated spot: a wide, sandy beach where a cool sea breeze blew in from the crashing waves, creating a surprisingly tranquil atmosphere.

With the ocean as his backdrop, a powerfully built young man stood with his back to them.

“I’ve been waiting, Simon Polentia.” Hector Moore turned, his gaze locking onto Simon. Around him, members of his faction were bustling about.

“The barrier is set perfectly, Hector.” He panted.

“They won’t hear a thing back at the Grand Auditorium, no matter how loud it gets.”

“Good work,” Hector grunted.

Simon set the bouquet from Richard on a nearby rock and swung his arms, loosening the stiffness in his joints.

“Simon, are you really going to fight?” Kamibarez asked, her expression etched with worry as she drew near.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “A promise is a promise.”

“I swear, you’ll be the death of me! A fight right after getting out of the hospital!” Meirin shook her head, exasperated. Behind her, Dick’s brothers—Dan, Bill, and Al—were practically buzzing with excitement, their eyes sparkling.

“We’re actually getting to see one of Kizen’s famous Duel Evaluations!”

“And it’s between the first and third-ranked students!”

“See? Didn’t I tell you we absolutely had to come to Lok Island?”

Outsiders had tagged along to a private duel between Kizen students. And not just any outsiders, but Dick’s brothers, who looked like they couldn’t keep a secret if their lives depended on it. Meirin felt a headache blooming.

’It’s not like Simon or Hector would listen to me if I tried to stop them anyway,’ she sighed internally.

Resigned, she approached the Hayward brothers.

“Dick’s brothers,” she began, her tone serious. “You all understand, right? Rule number one is security. Rule number two is also security. Please, don’t breathe a word of this in front of any adults.” Then, to their astonishment, she bowed her head slightly. “I’m asking you.”

It was a rare sight for a proud noble to bow to a commoner. Realizing the gravity of the situation, the Hayward brothers all made a zipping motion across their lips, their movements perfectly synchronized.

“Telling them to keep quiet is pointless, Meirin,” Dick snickered from where he stood with his arms crossed.

Meirin shot him a glare. “And why are you so calm? This is happening during an official off-campus event. Do you want to get disciplined and have your promotion to second year revoked before you finally get a clue?”

“No, it’s not that,” Dick said, pointing past her. Two adults had already entered the barrier.

“Kwahahaha! A duel! A duel! I could never miss a spectacle like this!” boomed Kamibarez’s father, the Vampire Lord, Dietrich.

“I envy their youth and romance,” said the man beside him. “My own school days were a dull monochrome in comparison.” It was Meirin’s father, Daniela, a leader of the Ivory Tower’s moderate faction.

“Dad!”

“Father!”

Kamibarez and Meirin cried out in unison, horrified. Dietrich gave them a fanged thumbs-up, while Daniela offered a gentle wave. The dads were already hitting it off.

“See? Told you it was pointless,” Dick said, lacing his fingers behind his head. “We tried to sneak out without the adults noticing, but there’s no hiding from monsters like them.”

“…Haaaah.” Meirin pressed a hand to her forehead. “Well, at least they seem to be treating it as a fun little event, so let’s just watch—”

“HECTOOOOOOOR!!!”

A booming shout echoed as a man tore a hole in the barrier and strode through. One of Hector’s faction members, who had been maintaining the spell, yelped and collapsed in shock.

“What do you think you’re doing! How much more must you tarnish your father’s name before you’re satisfied!”

This was Hector’s father and the head of the Moore family: Darkos Moore.

“Father.”

’SMACK!’

Darkos rushed forward and, without a word of warning, viciously slapped Hector across the face. The onlookers gasped, but Hector simply rose to his feet as if it were routine.

“I don’t want to hear it, you brat! Your mother is preparing a homecoming ceremony at the mansion, but it’s all canceled! You’ll begin endurance training at once—!”

Just then, Hector leaned in and said something quietly to his father.

Darkos Moore crossed his arms.

“If that’s the case, very well.” He spun on his heel and stomped away as abruptly as he had arrived.

“H-Hector?”

His faction members cautiously swarmed around him. A girl took out a tissue to dab at the blood trickling from his nose.

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him that as a man of the Moore family, I was facing a crucial battle in my life.” Hector’s gaze shifted, landing on a bewildered-looking Simon in the distance. “Keep this a secret from Simon Polentia.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” his faction members giggled.

“Simon.”

This time, Richard materialized at Simon’s side. Simon quickly lowered his voice.

“Ah, Father?”

“A duel right before the break. You’re as reckless as ever.”

“…Haha, my apologies for not telling you sooner.”

“It’s fine.” Richard patted Simon’s shoulder lightly. “Now I understand why Lady Nephthys insisted you come to Lok Island.”

“…Pardon?”

“I expect a good duel.”

With only those words, Richard walked over to join the other fathers. Darkos Moore was already in a conversation with Dietrich but shot Richard a wary glance.

“Vampire Lord, who is that suspicious man?”

At Darkos’s question, Dietrich shrugged. “He says he’s Simon Polentia’s uncle.”

“Kizen’s top student’s…”

Darkos looked completely unconvinced. Richard, seeing no reason to engage, simply stood beside Meirin’s father, Daniela, and crossed his arms.

“Alright, alright, let’s begin our final duel evaluation of the first year!” Dick stepped forward, holding an amplifying crystal sphere. “I am Dick Hayward, and I’ll be your referee! It’s nothing to brag about, but I’m the only one here who has the rules memorized! I promise to conduct this exactly like an official duel evaluation! And next to me is my co-referee, Ms. Meao of Hector’s faction. Care to say a word?”

Meao, who looked utterly baffled as to why she was there, replied with a chic, deadpan tone.

“Die.”

“Right. She says die. Let’s get started then!”

Simon and Hector changed into official duel evaluation barrier suits, which Hector had procured through his connections. Soon, the two stood facing each other.

Dick crossed his arms.

“Fighters, shake hands.”

Hector’s face twisted into a scowl as he glared at Dick, who put on a mock-stern expression.

“Ahem! What’s with the glare? You’re the one who wanted this done by the book. If you’re just going to do whatever you want, you can quit now.”

“…Tch.”

Hector reluctantly grabbed Simon’s hand, gave it a half-hearted shake, and let go. A faint smile touched Simon’s lips.

“What are you grinning at?” Hector growled, suppressing a surge of anger.

“Nothing,” Simon replied lightly, turning to walk to his starting position.

Hector also turned, muttering “I’ll kill you” under his breath. The two boys took their places, a wide expanse of sand between them, and prepared for battle.

Dick waved his arms.

“Okay, all magic circles, including persistent ones, must be deactivated. You know the rules! Preparing early is a disqualification!”

“I know all the damn details, so just get on with it!” Hector roared.

“Yeah, yeah! Alright, then! The duel evaluation between Simon Polentia of Class A and Hector Moore of Class A will now begin!” Dick raised his arm. Co-referee Meao dutifully raised hers.

“Begin!”

“Die.”

The moment their arms fell, signaling the start, the air shifted. The boys’ eyes, once filled with teenage bravado, now glinted with a terrifying focus. The watching Hayward brothers held their breath, stunned by the sudden change in atmosphere.

Simon immediately began weaving a Chaos magic circle at his waist, while Hector prepared a Dragon Form circle behind his back. It took less than a minute for each to lay the foundation of their magic.

’Fwoosh!’

Simon was the first to move. Launching himself from a foothold of pure jet-black, he surged forward and unleashed a devastating flying kick.

’THWACK!’

Shards of jet-black energy scattered like dark petals from the point of impact. Hector blocked with his shoulder and expertly grabbed Simon’s ankle, intending to slam him into the sand. But—

’Simon Original – Wind Flick’

Simon flicked his fingers as if launching a marble, and a concussive wave erupted on Hector’s forehead. The shock momentarily loosened Hector’s grip, allowing Simon to land gracefully on his feet.

“Tch!”

A brutal melee ensued. Abandoning all defense, the two boys unleashed a furious storm of blows, each intent on nothing but felling the other. Fists and legs became a blur, sending black sparks flying with every collision. It was a masterclass in martial combat.

“Wooooah!!” the Hayward brothers roared, their faces flushed with excitement.

“So this is a battle between necromancers!”

“This is insane!”

Their limbs tangled and clashed in a dizzying dance of violence. After deflecting Simon’s punch with his elbow, Hector bellowed, “What are you doing, Simon Polentia?!”

As his elbow straightened, Hector’s powerful straight punch shot out. Simon dodged it with a simple, elegant tilt of his head.

“Why are you fighting so honestly with martial arts? Hurry up and show me that ’Golden Lich’ you used on the giant!”

“Didn’t you hear?” Simon’s spinning kick, executed in the same fluid motion as his dodge, slammed into Hector’s arm with a sickening crack. “Herseva was destroyed in the battle against the Blood Cult.”

That was the cover story. Herseva wasn’t destroyed, of course; she had evolved into a legion-type undead, making her unusable within Kizen’s walls. But questions would inevitably arise, so he had already told both Nephthys and the Kizen administration that his powerful summon was gone for good.

“Damn it!”

Hector’s ferocious punch shattered Simon’s guard, sending him sliding back across the sand. Veins bulged on Hector’s neck as he roared in frustration.

“I told you I wanted to fight you at your best!”

Their first battle, during the sea-themed BMAT, had been against an utterly exhausted Simon at the end of a grueling exam. Even then, it had ended in a draw thanks to Chatel’s interference.

Their second battle, during the siege BMAT, had come right after Simon fought Special Admission No. 5, Jule. And that, too, had devolved into a chaotic group battle.

And now, their third. Simon was only a day out of the infirmary, and his most powerful weapon, Herseva, was gone.

“I refuse to make excuses for myself!” Fire ignited in Hector’s eyes. “After I crush you, I don’t want to hear a single ’what if’!”

’What if Simon had been at full strength. What if Simon hadn’t just fought Jule. What if Simon still had Herseva.’

“Why!” Hector’s aura exploded, his power swelling to a monstrous degree. He coated both arms in jet-black and began swinging like a demon, forcing Simon onto the defensive. “Why is it always like this! Are you setting up an escape route in case you lose?!”

’CRACK!’

Just then, Simon slipped inside Hector’s guard and drove an upward kick into his chin.

“You’re far too arrogant.”

Hector staggered back. Simon glared at him, his eyes cold and deep.

“My stamina is at its peak. I’ve already prepared a weapon to replace Herseva. Your words are an insult to my preparations.”

“Huh…”

“And besides,” Simon continued, jet-black energy beginning to flow from his body like smoke, “why do you assume you’ll win? Has it never occurred to you that you might lose to me when I’m ’not’ at my best? Is that the outcome you’re so desperate to avoid?”

Hector froze, speechless. Then, a harsh laugh escaped his lips.

“You’re right! Simon Polentia!” Jet-black energy erupted from his own body, mirroring Simon’s. “This is the last fight of our first year! I will pour everything I have into crushing you!”

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