Chapter 512: Episode 512

In the Baldwin Kingdom’s Poeta Great Forest, the rustle of leaves carried on a cool breeze surged like distant ocean waves. This vast expanse of trees, nicknamed the lungs of the continent, was home to Aland, one of the three great necromancer schools.

Simon and Jane walked side by side along a forest path, heading toward the academy.

’I-I’m nervous.’

Simon stole a glance at Jane. This was the first time he had ever walked alone with her. Her face was an icy mask, her gaze fixed straight ahead. It was impossible to know what she was thinking or how she was feeling.

Like all the second-year students, Simon respected Jane, but he also harbored a vague, undefined fear of her. It was not just her title as Vice-Headmaster or her staggering list of achievements; she simply never revealed her true thoughts to anyone. She was cold, strict, and when angered, terrifying enough to make one feel they were going mad.

’I can’t make a single mistake in front of her.’

He became hyper-aware of every breath, every footstep.

“Student Council President.”

Her voice cut through the silence. Simon tensed.

“Yes, Professor!”

“Attention.”

Though he did not understand why, he immediately snapped to a rigid posture. Jane glided in front of him and placed a pale hand on his chest.

“Tuck in your chin. Brace your stomach.”

Simon’s face flushed red.

“Shoulders back as far as they will go. Gaze forward. Hands in a light fist.”

Jane meticulously adjusted his coat, smoothed out the wrinkles, straightened his shirt collar, and gave his tie one final, neat tug.

“From this moment, we represent Kizen at Aland. We must do nothing to tarnish our school’s honor.”

“I will keep that in mind!”

“Professors from other schools may try to test you. You have learned proper etiquette in your Imperial Studies, have you not? Simply respond calmly, as you were taught.”

Etiquette, while old-fashioned, was as vital to a noble as a sword was to a knight. A single misstep could earn one a reputation for being ill-mannered or low-class—a fatal blow for nobility.

“Be confident. You are the Student Council President of Kizen.” She gave his shoulder a light pat before returning to his side with a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “Let us continue.”

“Yes!”

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm far more intense than any battle. A short while later, they reached a part of the forest where the trees grew unnaturally dense. A tangled mess of trunks and thorny vines blocked the way, leaving no room for a single person to pass.

’So this is Aland’s barrier.’

Outsiders could not simply teleport into the school grounds; there was a procedure. Jane strode forward as if she had done this a hundred times and spoke into the empty air, her voice calm and clear.

“Jane Olivia of Kizen. I am here to escort the transfer students.”

’Swoooosh!’

As if in response, the forest itself stirred. The surrounding trees parted, creating a pristine path before them. With a neutral expression, Jane gestured forward.

“Let’s go.”

“Ah, yes!” Simon walked on, marveling at the sight.

Jane spoke again.

“Student Council President, are you aware of the transfer tradition among the three great necromancer schools?”

“Ah, no, I am not.”

At the very top of the hierarchy was Kizen, the undisputed pinnacle of education in the Dark Alliance. Just beneath it were three public institutions known as the great necromancer schools: Aland, Sierra, and Moiran. Once a year, each of these schools selected its three most exceptional second-year students to transfer to Kizen.

For these students, it was the ultimate goal, the brightest future they could imagine. Some even strategically enrolled in one of the three schools from the start, aiming to graduate at the top of their class and secure a transfer. For the schools themselves, their greatest source of pride—and their most effective promotional tool—was how well their transfers performed at Kizen.

’Transfer students, huh? I can’t underestimate them.’

The students he was about to meet were the best of the best, prodigies nurtured with the full backing of their kingdoms and schools. They were known to maintain upper-middle rankings or even higher at Kizen, sometimes even challenging the top ten.

“B-But Professor, what exactly is this ’transfer tradition’?”

“It is nothing complicated.” Her gaze lowered. “When we enter the school, there will be an exhibition match against one of the transfer students. We call it a Transfer Evaluation Match.”

“What?!”

She frowned, pressing an index finger to her lips.

“Dignity.”

“F-Forgive me!”

“Why the surprise? As Kizen’s Student Council President, you are simply expected to teach them a lesson. The great schools use it to gauge their students’ abilities against Kizen’s best, and Kizen uses it as a first step in evaluating the transfers.” As she spoke, the corner of her mouth curved into a subtle, chilling smile. “Of course, they will use every petty trick in the book, including their home-field advantage. Your job is to break through it all and show them the vast difference in your caliber.”

A cold sweat beaded on Simon’s brow. How could she say that so casually? These were necromancers hand-picked by their kingdoms.

“Wh-what happens if I lose?”

To his trembling question, Jane responded with a placid, unnerving smile.

A shiver traced its way down his spine.

“I-I shall win. No matter what.”

“Of course you will,” she said, crossing her arms as they walked. “Still, be prepared. They will likely come at you aggressively this year, thinking they have a chance since the Student Council President is only a second-year.”

“Yes.”

One of the president’s duties was to uphold the school’s honor abroad. If he lost this match, his position would be in jeopardy. He had to win.

After passing through the path carved by the living forest, the Aland campus finally came into view.

’Whoa…!’

Aland was remarkably integrated with nature. The mountain had been left intact, leaving steep, uneven paths, and the campus was dense with trees. Ivy clung to the walls, and every floor boasted its own garden. Monkeys and lizards darted past, and deer roamed freely. What he had first mistaken for hills turned out to be towers and buildings completely veiled in greenery.

“Welcome, welcome! You must be exhausted from your long journey!” An elderly man with a bald head, leaning on a staff, greeted them warmly. Behind him stood the Aland faculty.

“Thank you for the welcome. It has been a while, Headmaster Agrigor.”

’He’s the headmaster?’

Simon was startled. The highest-ranking official at the school had come all the way to the entrance to meet them. Headmaster Agrigor shook Jane’s hand with a deferential bow, but Jane remained perfectly erect, her posture radiating dignity. She greeted the headmaster and his staff with a poker face, offering not even a hint of a smile. It was a stark display of Kizen’s power and authority.

“And this is a new face,” Headmaster Agrigor said, approaching with a benevolent smile.

Simon answered calmly, “I am Simon Polentia, the Student Council President of Kizen.”

“Ah! I have heard much about the exploits of Kizen’s Student Council President. To think a student from the Summoning Department took the position this year—my expectations are quite high. We at Aland are also working hard to bolster our own Summoning Department.” He added with a grin, “I look forward to the upcoming match.”

Following Jane’s lead, Simon greeted the Aland professors. Just as she had warned, some tested his etiquette, offering a left hand or placing a hand over their heart during the handshake. Simon calmly waited for the proper right-handed shake or mirrored their gesture, navigating each test flawlessly. Those who had tried to find fault turned away, their expressions chagrined.

“Well then, shall we?” Headmaster Agrigor extended an arm. “Our students are waiting.”

“Lead the way.”

Simon followed the headmaster to a massive wooden arena on campus. The moment he stepped inside, a deafening roar erupted from the stands.

“WOOHOO!”

Simon was stunned by the sound and the sheer size of the crowd.

’Is the entire student body here?’

The green uniforms of the Aland students rippled like a great sea. As if to intimidate him, they screamed until the veins in their necks bulged, their collective gaze fixed on him.

“Look who it is, the noble city slicker from Kizen!”

“Does the bookworm even know how to throw a punch?”

“WOAAAAAAAAAH!”

’How childish.’

A small smile touched Simon’s lips. He lightly brushed off his coat and strode into the arena with an air of confidence. On the opposite side stood two male students and one female student—this year’s transfers. Their green tops and plaid bottoms were quite striking. It was the same uniform their rival school, Sierra, mockingly called the ’grasshopper uniform’.

“Hey, Simon! Long time no see!” one of the male students called out, waving. He had playfully twitching eyebrows and curly brown hair cut short on the sides and back. “Welcome to our school, Aland!”

Simon blinked.

“…Who are you?”

The student staggered as if struck.

“What! You already forgot? It’s me! Benz! We met at the Pentamonium Academic Conference!”

Benz. He was sorry, but the name rang no bells. He vaguely recalled meeting students from the three great schools at the conference during his first year. This must have been one of them.

“Seriously? You really don’t remember? At Pentamonium, I tried to crush your hand and you completely owned me!”

“Save the chatter for after the fight, Benz,” the female student hissed, clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Anyway!” Benz clenched his fist. “I’m not going easy on you just because you’re the Student Council President!”

Though he still could not place him, Simon nodded with a smile.

“Are you my opponent?”

“That’s right.” Benz’s eyes grew serious. “I’ve been honing my skills like my life depended on it. I’m going to pour everything I have into this match and show you what Aland summoning is all about!”

“Alright. I look forward to it.”

The referee stepped forward.

“Contestants, prepare.”

An Aland Summoning professor scurried over to Benz like a corner man in a boxing match, helping him into a protective vest while rattling off tactical advice. Jane approached Simon with his own protective suit.

“The duel evaluation rules are the same. This is your first time fighting on your opponent’s home turf, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I trust a little home-field advantage will not be a problem.” Jane crossed her arms. “Do it the Kizen way.”

“Of course.” Simon nodded with a smile.

The referee raised his arm.

“Contestants, shake hands!”

Simon and Benz met in the center.

“Let’s have a good match!” Benz said earnestly.

“You too.”

They shook hands and returned to their positions. Thousands of Aland students roared their support for Benz, waving placards and flags bearing the school’s crest. This ’Transfer Evaluation Match’ was clearly a major event here.

“Now then! We will begin the Transfer Evaluation Match between Aland’s representative, Benz, and Kizen’s representative, Simon!”

The thunderous cheers were deafening. Both boys lowered into their stances as the referee raised his arm.

“Begin!”

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