Chapter 9
The next classes that followed were also a series of hardships.
Second period was Holy Defense Studies, third period was Hematology, and in both cases, the professors all called up Simon, the number one special admission, to the podium to test him.
It was an annual tradition. In fact, at Keyzen, not only was competition between students intense, but so was competition among professors.
Professors with poor performance were fired even mid-semester, their salaries fluctuated based on performance, and their influence and voice within Keyzen also varied.
That's why professors tried to secure as many students from their field as possible, and especially tried to draw talented students in as their personal disciples.
As part of that, they tested the top students' abilities in the first class, and it was only natural that Simon, the number one special admission, would be called to the podium.
Simon had to face a female student named Maelyn Villene in both classes.
She was ranked number one in Class A, and even among the entire first-year cohort, she had one of the highest entrance scores. If it were based on written exams alone, she was essentially the top student in the whole school.
There was no way Simon, who had only just started learning dark magic, could beat her. In his match with Hector, he had at least managed to land a blow, but with Maelyn, it wasn't even a contest.
Faced with this unexpected result, the professors tilted their heads in doubt, and the other students in Class A began to realize that Simon was a beginner.
'Huuuuh...'
Just like that, they had powered through to the third class without a break. Fortunately, the next class ended a little early, giving him a bit of time.
Simon was resting alone, slumped over a table in the empty snack bar.
'The classes are fun, but insanely tough.'
He hadn't expected school life to be this demanding. Especially after the match with Hector had drained all his strength.
Simon let out a groan and rested his head on his arms.
"Hey."
As he was catching his breath, someone spoke to him.
When he lifted his head, a short blond-haired boy with sunglasses pushed up on his forehead was grinning down at him.
"I'm in Class A with you. My name's Dick Hayword."
"...Simon Follentia."
The two exchanged a brief handshake.
"You've already become famous, y'know. Even students from other classes are talking about you."
Simon shrugged.
"Probably saying the number one special admission was just a bunch of hype."
"Hahaha!"
Dick laughed out loud and plopped down in the seat across from him.
"To be honest, you're the normal one. It's only the first day, but people are already making such a big fuss."
"Still, thanks for saying that."
Dick laced his fingers together and got a little more serious.
"Did you know? Hector's already building his own faction."
"...A faction?"
"He made a huge impression during the first class, didn't he? So of course people are drawn to him. He's also the eldest son of a powerful noble family, so he's super popular among the other nobles."
Simon rested his chin in his hand with a disinterested look.
"Not really interested."
"Hey, hey, listen. 'Politics' are important here at Keyzen! If Class A ends up falling completely under Hector's influence, you know what happens? If he marks someone as an enemy, they're done for. You'll even have a hard time finding group project partners."
That changed things. Simon straightened up.
"You seem pretty sharp about stuff like that. So why aren't you over there with Hector?"
Simon had clearly hit the mark, and Dick's expression turned sheepish.
'Doesn't look it, but he's got a sharp eye.'
Scratching the side of his head in embarrassment, Dick laughed awkwardly.
"Actually, I'm a commoner. From a merchant family."
Then he stood up and bowed with formal etiquette.
"If a mere commoner has been rude, I humbly apologize, Milord."
"...Don't do that. I heard that at Keyzen, we're all just first-years."
Dick smiled with satisfaction and sat down again.
"That's true, but there are still people who like to flaunt that they're nobles."
"At least I'm not one of them."
"Good to hear. Actually, I've got a proposal for you."
Dick held out his hand.
"Join my faction, Simon."
"...?"
"Whether your skills are lacking or people call you overrated, the fact remains you're still the number one special admission. Things like accelerated learning or prior knowledge might seem like a big gap now, but eventually it all evens out. Don't you think there's a reason Lady Neftis brought you in as a special case? You've got value."
Simon smiled gently.
"Forget all this faction stuff."
"...?"
Simon held his hand out toward Dick's extended one.
"How about just being equal friends?"
Dick let out a hollow laugh.
"...Wow, that has such a cheesy ring to it."
To think someone would still say something like 'let's be friends' instead of 'forming an alliance' or 'joining a faction' here at Keyzen.
Honestly, it was outdated.
Corny.
And yet, amid all the calculating people, Simon's approach felt strangely refreshing.
Dick reached out and gave Simon's hand a firm shake.
"Sometimes, a bit of sentimentality isn't so bad."
"...Haha."
From Simon's perspective too, it wasn't a bad thing to befriend someone who had a good grasp of Keyzen's inner workings and political dynamics.
The two, after a light handshake, slowly got up from their seats. It was time to head to their next class.
"What's our next class again?"
"Hang on."
Dick pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped it open.
"Ah, Summonology."
At that, a different light glimmered in Simon's eyes.
***
Simon and Dick entered the classroom in time.
Unlike the awkwardness of the first class, the atmosphere had become more relaxed, with students chatting freely with their new friends.
Just as Dick had said, four boys were gathered around Hector, laughing and joking loudly. When Simon passed by, however, they all went quiet and sneered at him.
"Oh look, it's the number one special admission."
"Biggest joke in Keyzen's history."
"How the hell did a guy like that beat Serne, Shatel, and Loraine?"
Though they were sneering, Hector, who sat in the center of the group, remained silent. He glanced briefly at Simon, then turned his head away.
"Don't mind them, Simon."
Dick said.
"You don't need to listen to the hype men."
Simon sat down with a blank expression and pulled out his Summonology textbook from his bag.
"I'm looking forward to it."
"...Huh?"
"The summonology class."
Simon's eyes sparkled. He didn't need to be told to ignore others, he simply didn't care in the first place.
Dick let out a short laugh.
'Yep, he really is something else.'
Soon after, the bell rang to signal the start of class. The students quickly returned to their seats.
Scrape. Scrape.
Footsteps dragging along the hallway could be heard from outside the classroom.
So far, every professor—from Bahil Amagar of Katarology to the others—had been so impressive that they left the students' jaws dropped. The students waited in eager anticipation to see who would enter next.
Click.
Finally, the classroom door opened, and a man in his early 30s stepped in.
With hair that looked like he had just gotten out of bed, stubble that hadn't seen a razor in a while, a loose shirt, shorts, and even worn-out slippers.
Simon wondered if some random guy from the neighborhood had wandered into the classroom by mistake.
The other students felt the same. Having only seen neatly dressed, smart-looking professors so far, this was enough to leave a real impression.
Dragging his slippers, the man walked up to the podium.
"I'm Aron Deia, and I'll be teaching Summonology this semester."
His drowsy voice echoed through the classroom.
Aron slowly walked to the chalkboard and began to write the words "Summonology".
With one hand in his pocket and the other lazily writing on the board, his entire posture radiated disinterest in everything. Yet somehow, that seemed to be part of his charm, and a few female students were whispering excitedly, faces flushed.
"Summonology is the root of necromancy, and you could even say it's the history of necromancy itself. Scholars try not to acknowledge it, but it's hard to deny that our origins trace back to gravekeepers, tomb robbers, and corpse fetishists."
Aron gave a gloomy smile and set down the chalk.
"Anyway, if you've got ears, you've probably heard a lot about Summonology. That it's outdated, that it's underappreciated. That it's hard to study, and comes with way too many handicaps."
A few students nodded in agreement.
"All those things you've heard..."
Simon felt his heart starting to pound. The other students swallowed hard, waiting for Aron's next words.
"Most of them are true."
"...?!"
Simon couldn't believe what he just heard.
Did this summoning professor really just say that?
Aron continued in his sleepy tone.
"In your previous classes, I'm sure they went on and on about how great their field is and why you should take it. Personally, I'm against that. I believe students should be given a clear understanding of both the pros and the cons so they can make proper decisions."
Aron returned to the board and picked up the chalk. The students readied their quills to take notes.
"First downside of Summonology."
Simon gave a wry smile.
Starting with the drawbacks?
"Summonology is expensive."
After writing the words on the board, Aron turned to the students.
"I'm not just saying that. No matter how much you imagine, the cost of materials in this field is far beyond that."
Suddenly, the classroom fell silent.
"The cost of materials for Summonology alone can exceed the combined cost of all your other classes. Think about it. Are you going to murder someone every time you need to create a skeleton or a zombie? Raid villages, hunt down animals, slaughter everything one by one? No. These days, necromancers use special-treated corpses that are packaged as Skeleton Sets or pre-prepared for zombification. And even then, most undead you make are disposable."
Several students' faces darkened. The commoners in particular looked visibly uneasy.
"There are plenty of times when the reward from a mission doesn't even cover the cost of what you spent fighting in it. If you're planning to major in Summonology, forget about making money. Now, the second drawback."
Aron wrote the next phrase on the board.
"High dependency on summoned creatures. I mean, this should be obvious. Summonology is a field where you fight using summoned creatures."
Aron lifted his chalk-wielding arm and circled the word 'dependency' several times.
"If your summoned creature is destroyed, your combat power as a summoner drops by over 80%."
"..."
"Especially nowadays, it's common to use heavily modified, semi-permanent undead instead of disposable ones. But what happens if that undead gets destroyed during a real battle?"
Aron lifted the corner of his lips in a grin.
"While your classmates are opening their maps and planning tactics, picture yourself sucking your fingers on the sidelines because you lost your summon."
Simon grew increasingly dumbfounded.
He's saying all this? Is this guy even a real summoning professor?
"And this dependency ties directly to the first drawback."
Aron drew a line from the circled word 'dependency' to the phrase 'expensive.'
"If you lose your main summon, the summoner suffers a devastating blow, both in terms of combat capability and finances. You'll spend a long time just gathering the money to recover your strength."
A heavy silence settled over the classroom.
"And finally, the third downside."
Aron smiled as he wrote on the board.
"This one's the most important."