Chapter 435: Episode 435

Late at night, Simon was roused from his sleep by a sudden, deep noise. He rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“Ughhh.”

Blinking away his drowsiness, he got out of bed and shuffled to the window. He threw it open and looked toward the source of the sound. It was coming from high up in the mountain range, not far from the estate. Not in the sea, but on the mountain ridge itself, creatures resembling deep-sea fish swam through the open air. The entire area seemed submerged, with rocks and trees floating lazily as if suspended in water.

Simon rested his elbows on the windowsill and cupped his chin. “I feel a little bad for the President.”

Whenever Phantastus slept, he caused bizarre phenomena akin to a dungeon anomaly. It was why he couldn’t sleep indoors and often sought out deserted mountaintops.

’Pop!’

Just then, the strange phenomenon dissipated. Like a bubble popping, the ethereal fish vanished, and the floating trees and rocks settled back to the earth. Phantastus had woken up.

Simon turned from the window. He took a fur-lined robe from its hanger, put it on, opened the window wider, and swung his leg over the sill. Then, he leaped from his second-floor room. He had no special reason for going to see him; he just figured he could keep the man company since they were both awake.

Phantastus was a necromancer who specialized in sleep curses, yet he had once confessed that he hadn’t enjoyed a truly peaceful night’s rest in years. Simon began to run up the mountain ridge.

A short while later, he found him.

’Did he have a nightmare?’ Phantastus was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. He whipped his head around, eyes wide.

“Who’s there!”

With a rustle of leaves, Simon emerged from the bushes. “It’s me, President.”

“…My Successor, is that you?” Phantastus let out a faint smile and a sigh. “What brings you here?”

Simon boldly walked over and plopped down beside him. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Hahaha! I see. The same goes for me.”

Simon glanced around. The area was completely wrecked, as if it had been bombed.

“It’s a side effect of the curse,” Phantastus said before Simon could even ask.

“…A side effect?”

“Yes. I became obsessed with the sleep curse, and I craved even greater power.” He took off his shirt, revealing the permanent magic circles etched into his skin, which seemed to writhe and move. “In order to hone sleep to its absolute limit, I used Compello… well, you probably wouldn’t know what that is. In any case, I crossed lines that shouldn’t be crossed, time and time again.”

Simon’s eyes flashed. “Compello! I know about it!”

“You do?”

“Yes. I’ve experienced it a few times.”

Phantastus let out a surprised, “Hoh.”

“Of course, entering a state of immersion naturally, as you do, isn’t a bad thing. But I always forced Compello open through artificial means, and eventually, problems arose… Hm? Why do you have that look on your face?”

Simon’s expression had become gravely serious. He held out his palm.

“Something like this, for example?”

He drew the ’Compellonia’ magic circle on his palm. Phantastus sat up straight in shock.

“Who did you learn this from?” His voice was heavy. Simon debated whether to answer honestly but decided he could trust the man.

“I learned it from Professor Bahil of Cursology.”

“Professor Bahil… That man.” Phantastus placed both palms on the ground and leaned back. “He also…”

“Yes?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

Simon’s eyes glinted sharply. Judging by his reaction, it seemed Phantastus had learned Compellonia from someone other than Bahil.

“This is for your own good, Successor, but it would be best to seal that curse away from now on. We can’t have any more victims like me.”

Simon nodded. “I’ve been doing just that since I used it the first time. I realized this technique was too dangerous.”

“Oh, well done! You were able to restrain yourself after getting a taste of it?”

“Yes.”

Of course, as a necromancer, Simon had been conflicted. The first time he activated Compellonia, he had used Void, and that technique had given him the inspiration to create Chaos. What about next time? What kind of power could he obtain then?

Compellonia seemed like the easiest and fastest path to strength. But he had held back.

’I will place a curse on this world.’

He felt that Professor Bahil, the one who had taught him, hadn’t approached him with purely good intentions.

“Alright then.” Simon stretched his arms wide, breaking the serious atmosphere. “Since we both can’t sleep, why don’t you tell me a story?”

“What kind of story?”

“Your stories from Kizen, President. The little bits you tell me during training are never enough. I’ve always wanted to sit down and hear them properly.”

A grin stretched Phantastus’s face from ear to ear. “Hahaha! Storytelling is this Phantastus’s specialty!”

And so, through the dawn, Simon listened to Phantastus’s tales of Kizen. The two had a lot in common. Like Simon, Phantastus had entered the academy without any prior training or background knowledge and had endured much trial and error.

“I didn’t learn the sleep curse because I wanted to.” He looked down at his own palm, then clenched it into a tight fist. “It was just that sleep was all I could do.”

Back then, the perception of ’Sleep’ was poor. It was dismissed as a simple support curse, a tool with low versatility used only for capturing monsters. Other students would laugh at him for fighting with Sleep in duel evaluations, but he finally had his breakthrough in his second year.

“That was the moment of this Phantastus’s true debut!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. “The rule was that a hundred students would enter an island and fight. The moment the test started, I put ninety-nine of them to sleep right on the spot! The rules of the test immediately changed to a competition among the ninety-nine, with me excluded!”

“Wow!” Simon let out a cry of admiration.

Phantastus raised a fist. “The students who were always ranked above me, waking up and looking up at me with those bewildered expressions! Do you understand that thrill?”

Simon grinned and bumped his fist against Phantastus’s. “Just hearing it is satisfying.”

And so, Phantastus grew stronger and stronger, eventually becoming the Kizen Student Council President in his third year and even being offered the position of the youngest ’Crow’. Of course, he had refused the glorious title to live as an adventurer.

“And now, you are the Student Council President of Kizen,” Phantastus said, looking up at the star-dusted canvas of the night sky. “My younger sister is in the second year.”

“Yes, I know. Though I’ve never seen her face.”

Merida Hugh Ikel. Special Admission No. 4, a talented student who had maintained her final rank of fourth place.

“I thought you would naturally recommend your sister for the position.”

“Haha! My sister’s vessel is too small! She lives in my shadow, too conscious of this Phantastus to live a proactive life!” He shook his head. “Her talent surpasses mine, but her mindset is the problem.”

“…Haha.”

“Anyway, for her sake as well,” Phantastus grinned, “make Kizen a good school.”

Simon nodded. “Leave it to me.”

—

White Ox Merchant Guild Headquarters. Warehouse 17.

Dim lighting, floating dust particles, and in the corner, sacks of grain piled up like a mountain. In this stuffy space, a boy was leaning back in a chair, rocking back and forth. All sorts of miscellaneous inventions were scattered on the floor around him.

A long sigh escaped the boy’s lips. “So booooored.”

Then he went limp again. Only the sound of the squeaking chair echoed through the empty space.

Just then, the warehouse door flew open, and light streamed into the darkness.

“Dick! Di-di-dick!”

“Di-di-di-dick!”

The fourth son, Bill Hayward, and the fifth son, Al Hayward, burst in, making a fuss.

“…You two, I’m correcting you for the one hundred and thirty-seventh time,” Dick said flatly. “My name isn’t Di-di-dick, nor is it Di-di-di-dick. It’s just Dick. You only have to say it once. Got it? Bill-Al brothers?”

“What, is your memory going already, big brother?”

“We’re not the Ball brothers, we’re the Bill-Al brothers! Got it?”

“Same difference.”

The three brothers giggled at the silly joke.

“Oh! Dick! A letter came from Simon!”

At those words, Dick, who had been slumped in his chair, shot straight up. “The time has finally come!”

He snatched the letter from his brothers’ hands and spun around on the spot. “Oh, Simon, my best friend, my roommate, my soul partner! Your reply is far too slow! This body of mine has seen through your advanced strategy of making the ladies anxious with this very tactic!”

“You sound a little pathetic, big bro.”

“What kind of novel have you been reading?”

“Quiet, you Ball brothers!”

In an instant, Dick tore open the envelope and scanned its contents, a look of pure delight spreading across his face.

“…This boring, uninteresting, and idle vacation is officially over!” He tossed the envelope into the air and shouted. “A trip! We’re going on a trip!”

“A trip! It’s a trip!” Bill and Al repeated loudly.

“The highlight of any vacation is, of course, a trip! A sentimental journey with just a few close friends! Well then, little brothers, I must be off to find the best travel destination!”

Bill and Al’s eyes were filled with envy. “That sounds fun!”

“Can’t you take us too?”

Dick chuckled as he walked out of the warehouse. “Oh, please! You want to get beaten to death by Father? Just keep moving goods here for the rest of your lives, Ball brothers!”

“No way! We’re going to Kizen next year too! Di-di-dick!”

“Brace your cores! I’m about to split them open! Di-di-di-dick!”

Dick laughed loudly as he disappeared out the door.

—

The city of vampires, Tuberan.

“Good. Good! Come at me with that spirit, my daughter, Kamibarez!”

Against the backdrop of a blood-red moon, two figures fought fiercely in an open lot. On one side was the Vampire Lord, Dietrich Ursula. On the other was a girl engulfed in a torrent of crimson blood. She ran up the wall of a building, her fangs glinting.

“Don’t be controlled by your blood! Fight your nature and hold fast to your reason!”

’Thump!’

The girl leaped, shattering the building wall. Dietrich wrapped himself in his long cloak.

’KRA-BOOOOM!’

The sound of the collision echoed throughout the city. Soon, as if the girl’s strength had run out, the red torrent slowly subsided. From within, a small girl with light purple hair appeared, panting for breath.

Dietrich smiled. “Well done.”

He was glad he had sent her to Kizen. His daughter, who had once been so frail in both body and mind, had returned completely transformed, at least in terms of mental strength. Kamibarez was overcoming her physical weakness with sheer fortitude.

’That boy must have been a good influence,’ Dietrich mused, stroking his chin as he thought of his daughter’s friend, the human named Simon Polentia.

“Lord.”

Just then, a vampire in uniform approached. “My apologies for interrupting your training, but a letter has arrived.”

“A letter?”

“Yes. From someone named Simon Polentia…”

’Thwip!’

In that instant, Kamibarez’s dazed eyes flashed with a crimson glow.

’Damn! I thought she was completely exhausted!’ Dietrich quickly shouted. “Dodge!”

But it was too late. In a blur of motion, Kamibarez subdued the vampire, an eerie smile on her face as her fangs glinted. Seeing the blood-red moon behind her and the crimson light flickering in her eyes, the vampire instinctively squeezed his eyes shut.

’Swish.’

But there was no pain. The letter was simply plucked from his grasp.

“Ah…”

When the vampire came to his senses, he saw an ordinary girl with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile.

“S-Sorry! I’ll go inside first!”

Clutching the letter, she scurried into the building as if fleeing. The vampire, still on the ground, blinked in confusion.

“My daughter, Kamibarez! You must lock your seal!” Dietrich hollered, hurrying after her.

“Later!”

A ’thud’ was heard as the door was slammed shut and the latch was thrown. A moment later, Dietrich trudged back out of the building.

“L-Lord?”

His shoulders were slumped. “Sob! It’s all for nothing, raising a daughter like she’s made of gold and jade!”

“…Pardon?”

—

Langestine Grand Theater, the open lot behind it.

The girl with sky-blue hair, who had been sitting in meditation, opened her eyes, her breath turning to mist. A large pillar of ice had shot up from the ground in the deserted lot. She stared at it with a blank expression, and then…

“Achoo! Achoo!”

She sneezed. Sniffling, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shivered. ’Ugh, why do I still feel the cold even when my skills have improved?’

“Still training today?”

A voice cut through her solitude. Meirin spun around, her eyes widening in shock.

“You always work so hard, Meirin.”

A boy with black hair in a Kizen uniform was approaching. He was none other than…

’S-Simon?!’

“I like that serious side of you, how you put your heart into everything.” Simon approached, his eyes looking suspiciously moist. “I was struck by your beautiful blue eyes… Oof!”

Simon’s line was cut short as Meirin’s flying side kick sent him tumbling to the dirt ground. Her face beet red, Meirin shot to her feet and shouted, “Simon doesn’t say cheesy lines like that!”

“…Haha.”

The figure that rose from the dust was not Simon. It was a lean, middle-aged man with a pointed nose.

“Y-Your kicks are as powerful as ever, Agent Meirin.”

It was Seyru, the illusionist who had once posed as an agent while deceiving Team 7 in the Neutral Zone. He was now living a second life as an actor.

Meirin crossed her arms and scoffed. “The Neutral Zone mission was ages ago. How long are you going to keep calling me ’agent’?”

“It’s just stuck in my head… Ugh! I think my ribs are broken.” As Seyru staggered, Meirin huffed and turned her head away. “If you don’t want to get hit, then don’t transform into Simon!”

“…Didn’t Agent Meirin request it first? You said the male lead’s face was too ugly for the script reading and asked me to use Agent Simon’s face for the sake of immersion…”

“Aargh! Aaaaaah! Stop! Shut up!!” Meirin waved her arms wildly, her face a furious shade of red.

Seyru smiled faintly and held out a letter. “A letter has arrived from that very Agent Simon.”

“Really?” Meirin’s face lit up as she ran over and snatched the letter. Then she shot Seyru a glare. “If you opened it, I swear…”

“…Even I don’t cross that line.”

“Anyway, thanks for delivering it.”

Seyru gave a slight bow. “I’ll be counting on you for the final performance tomorrow as well. There are quite a few audience members who come every time, captivated by your voice.”

“I’m not human if I ever come back here again!”

With that, Meirin hugged the letter to her chest and scurried away. “It’s vacation, what took you so long to reply?”

She tore open the letter and unfolded it. As she read Simon’s neat handwriting, a smile gradually spread across her face. After finishing the letter, she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.

“…I’ll let it slide. Just this once.”

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