It was a match that left a deep impression. The fatigue and stress from the fanatic incident seed to wash away, even if just a little, with the cheers of the crowd and the laughter of his classmates. Simon dispelled the Chaos Reaper and turned his head.
’Hector.’
He was shaking off his Corpse Dragon wings as if sothing foul had gotten on them and was floating the scales in the air to clean them. When his eyes t Simon’s, he scowled.
"What."
Simon gave a bitter smile. "Nothing, just... thanks."
"Shut up."
He was like that even when being thanked. Simon was used to it by now. Hector retrieved the Corpse Dragon parts into his subspace and coldly turned his back to walk away.
"I don’t know what you’re caught up in, but don’t you dare die before I get to beat you."
Simon watched him leave the arena with a smile. "Thanks for worrying about ."
"Shut up!"
The reaction was one of pure disgust. Simon laughed silently.
---
After the match, while he was in the waiting room for a drink of water, his Group 10 mbers and Fitzgerald ca to see him.
"Good work, Simon," Lorraine said, handing him a fluffy white towel that slled of freshly laundered fabric.
Simon took it with a smile. "Thanks, Lorraine."
"We won! We won!" Eshe was still high on the thrill of victory, jumping up and down before grabbing Toto’s shoulders and bouncing. Toto’s face turning beet red was an added bonus.
Simon wiped his sweat with the towel and quietly asked Fitzgerald, "How was the morning match?"
The match he had just run was in the afternoon; he hadn’t been able to participate in the morning one because of the investigation. With Simon suddenly absent, the Departnt of Summoning had a gap in its strength, and other unprepared students had to fill that void. The schedule must have been a ss.
Fitzgerald opened a notepad and answered plainly, without exaggeration or understatent. "We placed 7th in the morning match you missed. Our results for today are mid-tier overall. We’ll have to see the third-year results to know the final ranking, but I expect we’ll drop to around 3rd place."
"...I see." Simon hung his head.
"Hey, don’t worry about it too much, President!" Eshe said, her voice bright as she approached. "Look at everything you’ve done for us! Even the kids who were shalessly complaining all morning will have changed their minds after seeing this match...!"
"Eshe," Lorraine warned, giving her a look. Eshe belatedly clapped a hand over her mouth.
Simon smiled faintly. "No, it’s fine. I did sothing worth complaining about."
He had essentially thrown cold water on the Departnt of Summoning, which had been dominating in first place. But Lorraine shook her head.
"Your student council work is for all of us, too. A few kids grumbled, but deep down, they’ll understand your position."
"...Thanks, Lorraine."
Her words were warm, but not all students would be as rational and mature as she was. Still, he was prepared to humbly accept the criticism that would co for not securing first place.
’As long as you all can be safe.’
As Simon strengthened his resolve, Fitzgerald spoke. "One more match tomorrow. Can I ask you for that, Simon?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Thank you. Variables like this are always possible. We struggled today, but tomorrow we’ll adapt and work to bring our rank back up."
It was blunt, but this was Fitzgerald’s way of offering encouragent. Eshe and Toto chid in.
"Don’t worry, President! I’ll talk to the others and smooth things over!"
"M- too! I’ll work even harder to cover your part, so you can focus on your work without worry, Simon!"
"Thanks, everyone. I’ll do my best."
He had beco the Student Council President, and he was prepared for situations like this. Right now, his only thought was to protect this school, no matter what.
---
After leaving the arena, Simon returned to Professor Grelion’s cave, the base camp for Nephthys’s confidants. Security had been significantly tightened in the short ti he’d been gone. Necromancer agents were stationed at every corner, and the barriers were layered three or four tis over.
After going through a complex security procedure, he entered the depths of the cave. The Saintess of Harvest was still sitting in the chair with only a third of her face remaining.
’Ugh.’
It was painful to see again. Even though her face was gone, the Saintess’s authority seed to be leaking out, as stalks of wheat were sprouting in spots throughout the cave.
"You’re here, Simon," Kajan said, turning from his conversation with the other agents.
"Welco, Student Council President," Alistair added.
Simon greeted them both as he walked over.
"Have a seat."
"Yes, sir."
Alistair was brewing tea. Contrary to his rough appearance, his skill was practiced. Simon accepted the teacup he was offered.
"Has there been any progress on the case?"
"A lot has happened in a short ti," Kajan said, plopping down next to Simon and rubbing his neck with a tired expression. "First, it seems the Dark Festival will continue as planned."
Kajan, Alistair, and the other confidants of Nephthys didn’t fully trust Kizen Headquarters. Informing them would inevitably lead to information leaks. They couldn’t reveal anything about Ever Kireh’s Innate Ability, especially the fact that they had cooperated with Israphel from the Holy Federation to bring the Saintess of Harvest into the heart of Roc Island.
However, since Quinter had seen the captured Priest, they had no choice but to inform Kizen Headquarters of her detention. Headquarters and the Dark Alliance were apparently pleased to have caught an infiltrator and decided to proceed with the festival.
"The only solid proof that Ever Kireh is on Roc Island is the sight of that Saintess, who t a reality-manipulated death," Kajan said, pointing a finger at the faceless woman. "But obviously, we can’t reveal her."
"Right." This was a secret deal between Israphel and Nephthys, unknown to both the Holy Federation and the Dark Alliance. If it beca known that they had colluded with an enemy nation, it would cause another catastrophe. This was a card that couldn’t be played.
"More importantly, new information has co in," Alistair said, pulling a new top-secret docunt from an envelope. "It’s news about Ever Kireh."
He placed the docunt on a flat table and activated the magic circle on it, projecting a mana screen.
"First, the large amount of blood found near the Saintess of Harvest. The agents who first discovered the scene collected it before it could be absorbed by the sand, and an investigation confird it belongs to a Priest." He turned to look at Simon. "That blood was not the Saintess’s, nor the Priest we captured, nor Professor Parahan and his assistants’."
"Then there’s a high probability it’s Ever Kireh’s."
"That’s what we believe. And..." Alistair spread out a chart and handed it to Simon. "This is a list of the ships docked at Kizen’s port. To summarize, one more ship has departed than was recorded."
That was right. It was registered that twenty-six ships had left Roc Island this afternoon, but an investigation of the remaining vessels showed that one more had left. A ship had simply vanished like a shadow, which should have been impossible on an island under such tight security.
’Did Ever Kireh interfere?’ Simon wondered.
"We just received this report as well. That ship was discovered at an outer harbor of Langerstine. And blood identical to that found near the Saintess of Harvest was discovered on it."
"In other words," Kajan said, putting down his teacup, "there are two possible scenarios. Ever Kireh, seriously injured while trying to capture the Saintess, has already escaped Roc Island. Or..."
"She orchestrated it to make us believe that," Simon finished.
"Yes. You catch on quick."
Alistair, who had been listening, lowered his arms and walked over. "I’m leaning toward the forr."
"Hmm."
"From here on, this is my speculation. Ever Kireh struck the Saintess while she was resting with her divinity and authority sealed." In Simon’s mind, he pictured the fanatic severing the Saintess’s face with her Innate Ability. "Having dealt with her, Ever Kireh must have let her guard down. She was preparing to teleport away with the Saintess to erase the evidence, but the faceless Saintess was still able to use her authority."
Alistair reached out and fiddled with the wheat growing around the cave.
"Ever Kireh, not knowing the Saintess could still fight, was caught by a surprise attack and seriously injured. Then, as our necromancers began to swarm in, she abandoned the Saintess and fled. She would have escaped Roc Island before security beca too tight. That is my theory."
Simon, who had been listening silently, tilted his head. "Isn’t that too optimistic? I doubt a fanatic would abandon her objective so easily."
"Ever Kireh tried to kill a Saintess, whom the Priests praise as the ’goddess’s closest daughter.’ Imdiately after, her faith may have crumbled, causing problems with her own divinity. It’s a surprisingly common occurrence for Priests."
Simon shot to his feet. "If you’re talking about a divinity slump, that makes no sense! Ever Kireh tried to neutralize the Saintess because she was an obstacle to her plan in the first place!"
How could he be so ignorant about Priests? Then again, this was the continental average. Necromancers and Priests might be absolute in their own domains, but their understanding of each other was hopeless.
"This is not the ti to judge right and wrong based on predictions alone," Kajan interjected. "It won’t be too late to discuss it after we have a definitive result."
Alistair nodded, and Simon looked at him, puzzled. "A result? Is there sothing else coming?"
"We received a communication from the Saintess of the Divine Sea shortly after," Kajan said, scratching the scar under his eye. "After hearing what happened to the Saintess of Harvest, she said the situation was far more serious than anticipated and promised additional support."
Simon’s eyes widened. He had assud she would just take the Saintess of Harvest and wash her hands of the matter.
"A-additional support? Who’s coming?"
---
’The Dark Alliance. A teleportation circle in a naless forest.’
"Yes, the preparations are perfect," a girl with hair as white as snow said into a communication crystal. A worried voice ca from the other end, but she answered cheerfully. "Of course. I’ll keep that in mind."
Around her, paladins knelt on one knee, their swords planted in the ground, waiting.
"Yes, I’ll contact you when the job is done."
The white-haired girl, wearing a black robe, ended the communication and slung a bag lightly over her shoulder. As she touched her hair under the robe, it turned from white to a shimring ash. She tapped her shoes on the ground, ran a hand over the choker around her neck, then glanced at the paladins and smiled brightly.
"Well then, I shall be on my way."
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