Chapter 53: Episode 53

Simon decided to set a trap for the priest from Efnel. He would deploy his Corpse Spiders throughout the Forbidden Forest near where he’d last seen the spy and wait. The moment the priest appeared, the spiders would alert him, and he would dispatch Pier and Erzebet. Erzebet would disguise herself as a high-ranking priest to approach the target and extract information.

“[My apologies, Legion Commander, but if the target is a priest, will he not immediately discover that I am an undead? I have heard that those who wield Divinity are highly sensitive to my kind.]”

“I don’t think so. That man used Jet-Black,” Simon explained. Jet-Black and Divinity were mutually exclusive powers. A priest’s ability to sense the undead stemmed from their Divinity. The traitor had forsaken that power to wield dark magic. “And even if you are discovered, it doesn’t matter. Pier and the entire Legion will be there to attack him. Victory might not be guaranteed if he’s truly professor-level, but the two of you should have no problem escaping.”

“[I understand. I shall begin studying the appearance and behavior of high-society priests at once.]”

“Good. I’m counting on you.”

The trap was set. The priest would likely be cautious for a while, but Simon hoped that, eventually, he would slip up. With the plan in motion, Simon left his undead in the ruin and returned to Kizen.

—

The mission period was over, and a new semester at Kizen had begun. When Simon entered the classroom, the atmosphere was far more energetic than usual. Laughter and excited chatter filled the air as everyone swapped stories from their missions. It seemed a full day wouldn’t be enough time for all the tales to be told.

’Are the others not here yet?’ Dick had been with him on the way to school but had made a frantic dash to the bathroom, leaving Simon to arrive alone. As he scanned the room for a seat, he spotted a familiar face.

“Meirin!”

She was talking with two other girls, but when she saw him, her face flushed, and she quickly hid something behind her back. Her friends giggled and nudged her, earning a sharp “Stop it!” from Meirin.

“Is something wrong?” Simon asked as he approached.

Meirin flinched and took a step back. The other girls greeted Simon cheerfully before giving Meirin a knowing look.

“Well, we’re in the way, so we’ll get going…”

“Oof!”

“Hey! You guys are so dead!” she hissed as they ran off, laughing.

Meirin shot a brief glare at Simon before clearing her throat.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”

“About what?”

“Are you just dense?” She sighed and thrust out what she had been hiding. “Here.”

“Hm?” It was a beautifully wrapped carrot cake. Simon blinked. “For me?”

“D-Don’t get the wrong idea! I’m only giving it to you because we’re in the same group!” She shoved the cake into his arms and snatched her hands back, turning away to fan her burning face.

“Thanks. But why the sudden gift? It’s not my birthday.”

She stared at him as if he were an idiot.

“It’s Cake Day.”

“Cake Day?”

“Yeah! The day girls give cakes to guys!”

Simon’s mind raced. He’d never heard of Cake Day. Back home, the only special occasions were the harvest festival and farm weeding day. It had to be a city thing. From Meirin’s reaction, not knowing about it made him a country bumpkin, and he wisely decided not to press the issue.

Putting the pieces together, he offered a warm smile.

“You were thinking of me. Thanks, Meirin.”

Her fanning grew more frantic. “Thinking of you, my foot! I’m just giving it to you out of pity! If you and Dick don’t get any cake, you’re just pathetic…”

“Hi, Simon!”

Two other girls from Class A walked up.

“Here! It’s a lemon cake!”

“Mine’s black tea! Thanks for helping me with my combat stance last class!”

They placed their gifts on top of Meirin’s. Simon, though a little dazed, smiled brightly.

“Thanks, you two! I’m glad I could help.”

“Ah.” The girls’ cheeks turned a rosy pink.

“I’m sure they’re delicious,” he said.

An awkward, charged silence hung in the air before they waved goodbye and hurried away.

“N-Not bad,” Meirin muttered, breaking into a nervous sweat. “But those were all thank-you gifts. So that’s the end of it…”

“Simoooooon!”

’Now who?’ Simon turned to see Kamibarez running toward him, a smudge of whipped cream on her cheek and a large cake box in her hands.

“Ah, Kami.”

She stopped in front of him, taking a deep breath. With fierce determination in her eyes, she held out the cake.

“Simon! I-I’ve caused you a lot of trouble, and th-thank you for everything! I look forward to working with you this semester!” She did a deep bow, offering him the massive cake.

’Seriously, what is Cake Day?’ Simon thought, touched by the gesture.

Meirin peeked at the box, her eyes widening.

“Wow! Is that homemade? That’s amazing…”

Kamibarez’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.

“N-No! It’s not homemade! I just bought it in Rochest…”

“Kami.” Simon stepped closer and pulled out a handkerchief. He gently wiped the cream from her cheek. “Hold on, you’ve got something here.”

Her face flushed red as a tomato. She thrust the cake into his arms and fled the classroom.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Pfft, you really are something else,” Meirin sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead.

—

After the brief commotion, Simon sat down and arranged his collection of cakes on his desk. He looked around the room, which was now filled with colorful desserts and the sweet, giddy atmosphere of young romance. It turned out the energy he’d felt earlier was a combination of post-mission reunions and the formidable power of Cake Day.

In the far corner, Hector sat with his legs spread, a thunderous expression on his face. In stark contrast to his mood, he was wearing a silly party hat, and a mountain of cake boxes was piled on his desk.

“H-Hi, Hector!” a girl from another class cautiously approached him. “Th-This! I got it for you…”

“Just put it anywhere and get lost.”

“Aaah!” She added her cake to the pile and fled, her face beet red. The sight of the fearsome Hector, unable to do anything but scratch his head in frustration, was strangely amusing.

’He must have it tough, too,’ Simon thought as he took out his textbook.

“Hi, Simon.”

He looked up.

“Ah, Class President.”

It was Jamie Victoria. After acting as the class representative during Venomology, the nickname had stuck. With her short green hair and slender build, she could easily be mistaken for a handsome boy.

“Cheese, vanilla, or cinnamon? Which do you like?” she asked, rummaging through a bundle on her back.

“I’ll have cinnamon.”

“Oh! This one wasn’t popular. Thanks for picking it!” She handed him a cupcake.

“Are you giving these to all the guys in Class A?” he asked.

“Yep! To a good semester. See ya!” She gave him a wink and moved on, much to the delight of two boys behind Simon who had been sitting cakeless and were now looking at her as if she were their savior.

“Simon,” Meirin said, settling into the seat next to him with a meaningful look. “You didn’t know about Cake Day, did you?”

Simon flinched. Convinced, she shook her head.

“Let me give you some advice. This is school. If you don’t want to be an outcast, you’d better keep up with basic holidays and trends.”

She had a point.

“Are there other holidays like this?”

“Of course!”

“Let me guess, next time it’s the guys’ turn to give gifts. What’s it called?”

Meirin’s lips curled into a sly smile.

“Accessory Day.”

Simon let out a hollow laugh.

“That’s unfair.”

“Hey, do you honestly think girls who give cakes expect real jewelry in return? We just exchange little trinkets.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” she chirped, smiling sweetly. “Of course, if the guys ’really’ want to give something nice, I won’t stop them…”

The world really was unfair.

—

The chaotic pre-class buzz finally died down as Professor Jane stepped to the front of the room.

“I have rezeived a report that all of Clazz A haz returned zafely. Az your profezzor, I am zatizfied,” she began, her sharp eyes sweeping over the students. “Firzt, an important announzement.” She took a document from her azziztant. “The Duel Evaluation will begin thiz week.”

A collective groan rippled through the room. The cheerful, cake-fueled atmosphere instantly froze over.

Jane continued, unfazed. “The Duel Evaluation will run for the entire firzt zemeztor. The rulez are zimple: you will engage in one-on-one combat with other Kizen firzt-yearz. Your competitorz are not juzt from Clazz A, but from all fourteen clazzez, down to Clazz N.”

She walked to the blackboard and drew a simple diagram.

“Winnerz will move to a higher zquad; lozerz will move to a lower one.”

Top Squad: 30%

Middle Squad: 30%

Lower Squad: 30%

Bottom Squad: 10%

“The zquadz will be updated weekly. Any ztudentz remaining in the bottom zquad at the end of the zemeztor… will be expelled.”

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