Chapter 452: Episode 452

The head professor for Cursology was a foregone conclusion. He was one of Kizen’s brightest stars—an active Crow despite his youth, known for his professional lectures, engaging teaching style, and gentle demeanor. He was Bahil Amagar, the professor most students at Kizen aspired to be like.

And yet.

“There is an announcement for the Cursology department.”

A nervous murmur rippled through the hall at Byulya’s ominous tone.

“…Hmm, how should I explain this.” As Byulya scratched her head, an employee from Kizen’s main office—not a broadcast minion—ran up and whispered in her ear. She nodded. “Right. As you all expect, the head of Cursology is Professor Bahil. However, he will not be joining us for this opening ceremony.”

The students began to whisper amongst themselves. Dick narrowed his eyes.

“She’s not explaining why. Did he just skip it?”

Meirin shot him a pitying look.

“What, do you think he quit Kizen? Professor Bahil?”

“Maybe he has some personal matters to attend to,” Kamibarez suggested.

“You think so? Simon, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Simon forced a smile and shook his head.

“I’m not sure.”

“Really?”

As his friends moved on to another topic, Simon quietly pressed a hand to his forehead.

’…No way.’

’On the last day of his first year, Simon had visited his professors to say goodbye. The only one he hadn’t been able to see was Bahil. His research lab was empty except for his head teaching assistant, Chehekle. He remembered their conversation.’

“Professor Bahil has been acting strange ever since he visited you in the infirmary, Simon. Then he cut off all contact and disappeared.”

“D-disappeared?”

“Can you tell me what you and the professor talked about?”

“Simon had hesitated. Could he tell her everything? The secret of Compellonia, Bahil’s ambition to curse the world… But he didn’t know Chehekle well enough to trust her.”

“It’s obvious what that man would say.”

“But before Simon could speak, Chehekle had answered for him.”

“He offered to make you his direct disciple and told you to join the Cursology department, right?”

“Since that part was true, Simon had simply nodded. Chehekle had let out a long sigh.”

“Don’t worry too much. He’s the type to come back when the new semester starts anyway.”

Simon had believed her and returned to Leshill. But now…

“He still hasn’t returned to Kizen?”

On the stage, Chehekle sat in the Cursology professor’s designated seat. Seeing her troubled expression, Simon felt a knot of worry tighten in his stomach. He decided he had to find her tomorrow, or even later today if he could.

“Alright, last but not least, the most popular department: Jet-Black Dynamics! You’ve all been waiting for this, right?”

“Yeeees!” a chorus of students roared.

Meirin’s hands were trembling as she whispered, “Professor Eric Aura, please…!”

“I heard Professor Tyler from the back class is no pushover either. He’s popular,” Dick added.

It was a battle between the theorist, Eric, and the pragmatist, Tyler. The loser would take a massive hit to their career. Who would lead the second-year Jet-Black Dynamics department?

“Hmm!” Byulya looked at the name on her list and let out a knowing laugh. “Alright, I’ll announce it, you punks! The head professor for second-year Jet-Black Dynamics is Professor Eric Aura—”

“YAYYYYY!”

The students from the front class, Meirin included, screamed with joy.

“—w.a.s. what it was supposed to be!” Byulya tacked on, and the hall fell silent once more. “Four days before the start of the semester, Professor Eric Aura suddenly announced his retirement.”

The auditorium erupted into chaos. Many of the third-years had also taken Eric’s classes and were just as bewildered.

“It wasn’t due to an accident or anything strange,” Byulya clarified. “The professor himself stated that he wanted to focus more on academics and theory rather than training successors. He’s entering the Pentamonium as a full-time scholar.”

The news was a shock, but Simon could understand it. Eric was a classic scholar who valued theory above all else. He had always seemed to struggle with Kizen’s emphasis on teaching practical, immediately applicable black magic.

’I wish you the best, Professor Eric.’ Simon thought that the life of a scholar suited him far better.

“Sooooo! I bet you’re all curious who will be in charge of the second-year Jet-Black Dynamics department, right?”

A student from the back class shouted, “Professor Tyler!”

“For your information, Professor Tyler has decided to teach this year’s freshmen, so he’s busy preparing for first-year classes. He didn’t want to be promoted by a fluke, and we can’t suddenly change what’s already been decided.”

The students were even more confused. Then who on earth would be teaching them?

“Enough with the suspense. Let me introduce her!”

’Click. Clack.’

The sharp sound of heels echoed through the hall as a woman parted the curtain and strode onto the podium. She wore a perfectly tailored black suit and a chic bob haircut. Her expression was cold, her eyes radiating an intense charisma.

“You punks should consider yourselves lucky! Vice Headmaster Jane Olivia has personally decided to take charge of the second-year Jet-Black Dynamics department!”

A roar so massive it seemed to shake the very foundations of the auditorium erupted. The second-years were losing their minds.

“Professor Jane!! Our Professor Jane is in charge of Jet-Black Dynamics!” Meirin was so ecstatic she was jumping up and down, hugging an equally thrilled Kamibarez. “Oh, I’m so happy! If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up!”

“Congratulations, Meirin!”

“…Wow.” Dick let out a dazed laugh. “Jet-Black Dynamics just hit the jackpot. Course registration this year is going to be an absolute bloodbath.”

Jane’s skill was legendary, but the students of Class A knew it firsthand. She had led their class to achieve the highest grades and the lowest dropout rate out of all fourteen first-year classes—a staggering feat.

“Simon! You’re going to take Professor Jane’s class too, right?” Kamibarez asked, her eyes wide.

“Of course.” A fire of determination ignited in Simon. In the department-based second year, students could take general education classes in addition to their major courses. While major courses were fixed, the real war was fought over general ed registration. The thought of failing to get into Jane’s class was a terrifying prospect.

“Now I’m having second thoughts about my department choice.”

“What should I do?”

Jet-Black Dynamics was already popular for its versatility, but with Jane at the helm, students were seriously reconsidering their plans.

“Alright, Professor, a word from you too!”

Jane accepted the amplification crystal and surveyed the students. A slightly husky, yet delicate voice filled the hall.

“That’s how it is,” was her opening line. “You’ve heard the rumors. I will cut any student I deem unworthy, even a third-year. I hope none of you will come sniffing around with shallow ambitions only to regret it.”

She moved to set the crystal down, her face impassive. Then she paused, a faint smile touching her lips as she brought it back. “Ah. And everyone from Class A will register for my class. That is all.”

“WOO-HOOOO!”

Students looked around in shock as the former Class A members erupted, chanting her name like fanatics.

“I love you! Professor Jaaane!” Meirin cried, tears of joy streaming down her face. Simon and Kamibarez laughed and clapped along, while Dick whistled.

“Boo, favoritism!”

“We’re all second-years!”

A few students grumbled playfully, but the former Class A students were too euphoric to care. The most emotional of all was their class president, Jamie.

“I love you, Professor Jane!” she sobbed.

“Huh? Jamie! What about Hector? You’re going for her…?”

Jamie, her face beet red, shot a silence curse at Dick.

With that, Jane took her seat, and all the head professors were in place.

“Ah, so Professor Jane is going to the second-years.”

“I really wanted to take her advanced black magic class.”

“Isn’t Kizen favoring the second-years a little too much?” the third-years lamented. Last year, Jane had only taught Class A and a few third-year courses. Now, she was completely lost to the second-years. Unless they suffered the humiliation of auditing a junior class, they would hardly see her.

“Isn’t their professor lineup insane? Jane, Bahil, and Hongfeng are all with the second-years.”

“…If only Aizel were here, this wouldn’t be happening.”

It was merely a series of coincidences, but for Leonard, Will, and several other third-years, the sense of victimhood and resentment was steadily growing.

—

Immediately following was the main event of the evening: the ’Department Selection Ceremony’. Each department had a maximum capacity of sixty students, and they would choose in order of their rank, from first to four-hundredth.

Thus, the first student to approach the podium was, of course…

“Second-year, rank one: Simon Polentia, step forward.”

It was Simon. His appearance sent a ripple of tension through the professors. Jane closed her eyes, Hongfeng rested her chin on her clasped hands anxiously, and Aaron, uncharacteristically nervous, pushed back his messy hair.

“So that’s the boy,” murmured the Necrology and Hemomancy professors, their eyes gleaming at the sight of the top-ranked student.

“Well, well, Mr. Student Council President.” Byulya flashed her shark-like teeth and patted Simon’s shoulder. “The talent to carry our Venomology department is right here! Your resistance is top of your class, am I right?”

“…Haha.” Simon gave an awkward smile. Jane crossed her arms, clearly displeased, while Hongfeng’s expression hardened. She said something to a nearby minion, who then scurried over to whisper in Byulya’s ear.

“Alright, alright, it was a joke,” Byulya grumbled. “Well, the choice of the top-ranked student is a big deal! I’m curious which department you’ll choose. Care to say a few words?”

Simon offered a faint smile. “From the moment I entered Kizen, there has been one field of study that has continuously set my heart on fire. Of course, Kizen has many excellent classes and professors, but looking back, I think my mind was made up from the very beginning.”

He walked forward with purpose. Seven altars stood before the platform, each bearing a symbol.

The straw doll of Cursology. The witch’s hat of Jet-Black Dynamics. The zombie of Summoning. The ghost of Necrology. The blood drop of Hemomancy. The broken potion bottle and skull of Venomology. The ringed fist of Combat Magic.

Taking a deep breath, Simon approached one of the altars and plunged his hand into its blazing flames. ’It’s not hot.’ Inside, his fingers closed around a single card. He pulled it out and held it up for all to see. On the back was the mark of a zombie.

“Rank one, Simon Polentia, has chosen the Department of Summoning!”

As cheers erupted, Simon looked at the front of the card. Flames flickered across its surface, spelling out his name.

<Kizen Department of Summoning, 2nd Year, Simon Polentia>

It was a new student ID, exclusive to second-years, that also granted wartime command authority. ’So this is what I’ve heard so much about!’

Simon carefully tucked the ID into his pocket and followed the teaching assistants’ directions toward the professors’ seats. Aaron was already rising from his chair. He could see the disappointment on Jane’s and Hongfeng’s faces, but their hope had been a slim one. It was practically a foregone conclusion among the faculty that Simon would choose Summoning.

“Welcome.” Aaron extended a hand, his expression as indifferent as ever, but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

Simon took his hand and smiled brightly.

“I look forward to another great year with you, Professor Aaron.”

His supervising professor. His direct advisor. For his coming school life, nothing could be more reassuring.

“The other professors in the department were eager to meet you, too. I’ll be expecting great things.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll do my best not to let you down.”

After shaking hands with Aaron, Simon followed an assistant’s guidance and stepped down from the platform.

“Ah, a moment, if you please.”

Simon was about to head down to his friends, but the teaching assistant gestured behind him.

“Students who have finished selecting their department should immediately join the seniors in the Summoning Department.”

He was pointing to a table at the very back where the third-years were seated.

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