Free Web NovelChapter 650: Episode 650
There were no major surprises. The teams with the highest scores were...
"Team 8, Team 10, and Team 11."
"Yes!"
The teams led by Fitzgerald, Simon, and Aseraz, respectively, had taken the top spots. The members, whose A+ grades were now secure, erupted in cheers, hugging and high-fiving one another.
"Nice! Nice!"
"This A+ is a huge deal!"
While the members of Team 8 celebrated, Aseraz merely scowled and turned her back on the celebration.
"Aseraz! Where are you going?"
While high-fiving Lorraine, Simon watched Aseraz’s retreating figure. She looked as though she couldn’t contain her rage.
’She’s unusually fixated on me. I don’t remember doing anything to her.’
And he wasn’t the only one fixated on him. Hector, who had finished a grade lower with an A, was glaring daggers at Simon, his eyes burning with murderous intent.
’...Haha.’
Simon quickly led his team away.
---
After classes, student council duties awaited. The frantic, sleepless nights of the Dark Festival were over, and they had returned to their normal routine, so things were relatively calm. Today’s tasks were simple enough: managing the academic schedule and posting flyers on the bulletin boards.
<World’s Deadliest Poison Contest>
<Hosted by: Pentamonium>
Simon tacked the paper to the hallway bulletin board and stepped back, satisfied.
’The placement isn’t half bad.’
He let out an unconscious laugh. It felt like just yesterday that he was fighting Ever Kire and the false goddess, and now here he was, completely absorbed in arranging a poster.
"Hup."
Meirin, who had come with him, was on her tiptoes, struggling to press a thumbtack into a flyer she held against the board. Her sky-blue hair, like a gentle stream, swayed from side to side. Simon quietly moved to her side and held the paper steady for her.
"Ah, thanks."
Meirin gave him a slight smile and finished the task.
"Should I post this one next to it?"
"Yeah, yeah. But..." Meirin’s eyes narrowed. "You idiot! Why did you stick the contest flyer right in the middle?"
"It’s the most important one, so shouldn’t it be in the middle?"
"Then there’s no room for anything else! And the empty space on the sides makes it look awful! Take it down, quick!"
Meirin was fiercely passionate about even the most minor design details. She proceeded to tear down all the papers Simon had put up and rearrange them. Stepping back, she crossed her arms with a proud look.
"Mhm, much better now."
"...Oh."
It seemed a bit fussy, but the result was so undeniably neat that he couldn’t argue. Now they just had to call Mojo and their other subordinates and have them replicate the layout on the other bulletin boards. With their external duties for the day complete, Simon and Meirin walked back to the student council room, chatting amiably.
"Hey, Simon."
"Yeah?"
Meirin shot up her index finger.
"You know the Seventh Legion Commander who’s the hot topic at school these days? I think I know who it is."
’!’
Simon’s mouth went dry, but he forced a casual smile.
"And who would that be?"
"It’s Pion!" she shouted, her eyes sparkling.
Simon did his best to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine. "Aw, Pion again?" he joked.
"No, really! I’m sure of it!" She clapped her hands together sharply. "I became certain after hearing Lady Nephthys’s speech! She said the Seventh Legion Commander was definitely involved in the Saintess incident, right? I saw it with my own eyes back in my first year." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Pion, fighting the Saintess in the sky!"
Simon shrugged. "But if we don’t know who Pion actually is, it’s all a bit meaningless, isn’t it?"
"What do you mean, meaningless!" Meirin shrieked. "To think that the necromancer in the skull helmet who saved me was actually the Seventh Legion Commander! No wonder he was so strong!"
"..." Simon swallowed, choosing his words carefully before speaking quietly. "Aren’t you scared?"
"What?"
"He’s the Commander of Betrayal."
Meirin’s face broke into a bright smile. "Not really. He’s the one who saved my life and our school."
"Hm..."
"I think the people of the Alliance are too rigid! They said he’s not even the same commander who betrayed them back then, right? So what’s the problem?"
Simon smiled quietly. For some reason, her words brought him a sense of relief.
"I guess you could look at it that way."
As they talked, they arrived at the student council room. Meirin burst through the door, announcing, "We’re here!"
Kamibarez, who was busy organizing documents, smiled brightly at them. "Welcome, Simon! Meirin!"
Across from her, Dick was scribbling equations in a notebook, surrounded by a mountain of books. Too busy to greet them properly, he just gave a quick wave before returning to his work. It seemed the two of them weren’t finished with their paperwork yet.
"Hey, but..." Meirin’s gaze shifted. "Why are ’you’ always here!"
She had spotted a boy sitting on the guest sofa, calmly sipping black tea. Unusually long bangs covered one of his eyes, and he wore an armband.
"I have to say, the tea here is excellent."
It was Malcolm Randolph.
"Don’t just make yourself at home!"
After the Dark Festival, one thing had changed in the student council.
-Judging the performance of the Disciplinary Committee, which was piloted during the Dark Festival, to be outstanding, the faculty council has decided to promote the Disciplinary Committee to an official organization.
The student council hadn’t even made a move; the school itself had recognized the committee’s value and promoted it. Now, they would even receive a monthly budget. Of course, their authority was diminished compared to during the festival. They could only wear their armbands and patrol after the regular school day ended, checking for violence or irregularities and searching for rule-breakers in places like the Forbidden Forest or Rochest.
"You know this was all part of your big bro’s master plan, right?" Dick said with a smug laugh. In truth, his goal had been to maintain the Disciplinary Committee to strengthen the student council’s power.
"...Haaah, what is all this." Meirin pressed a hand to her forehead, clearly not thrilled about Malcolm’s inclusion. "Hey. If people are working, at least pretend to help."
"I am," Malcolm replied, gesturing with his chin.
Indeed, while Malcolm himself was sitting, his doppelgängers were bustling about the room—wiping windows, watering plants, sorting documents, and updating the record log. Simon smiled faintly at the sight of the main body sipping tea while simultaneously performing four different tasks.
"That’s impressive."
"This is also part of my training." At Malcolm’s gesture, the doppelgängers finished their work and vanished with a series of soft pops. There was no denying his competence.
"Dealing with Dick is hard enough, and now we have another troublemaker," Meirin muttered as she sat down with her documents. "Just don’t cause any trouble. That’s all I ask."
"Since we’re working together now, let’s do our best," Simon offered.
"It’s a pleasure to work with you, Malcolm!" Kamibarez added, flapping her wings with a bright smile.
"As the Head of the Disciplinary Committee, don’t you have some kind of ambition?" Dick chimed in.
"An ambition, huh." Malcolm set down his teacup. "I hold the title, and now that we’re an official organization, I’ll have to step up. I’ll take down at least one of the Top 10." He shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. "That should be satisfying enough, right, President?"
Simon grinned back. "I’ll be looking forward to it."
"Hey, Malcolm. How about that Top 7 over there?" Dick snickered, pointing at Meirin.
Ranked 7th overall, she snorted. "Try it if you think you can."
She was a proven talent, after all. Malcolm turned his head.
"Well, I’m not a good match against necromancers from the Ivory Tower."
"Ooh, going easy on her because she’s your superior? You’ve got some social skills," Dick teased, holding out a fist.
Malcolm bumped it with his own. The two seemed to have surprisingly good chemistry, perhaps because their interests were aligned.
"Why do you keep picking on me!" Meirin shrieked, and the room filled with the boisterous laughter of the other members.
---
"Senior Simon! Am I swinging it right?"
In the Mutants club basement, Arthur, the Mercenary King, swung a snake sword forged from the bones of a large monster. The segmented blade cut through the air with a sharp whoosh.
He swung the hilt with sharp, disciplined movements, but the blade still flopped about uselessly.
"It’s not all about swinging it hard," Simon said, shaking his head. He summoned an Overlord’s tentacle from his subspace to demonstrate. "Like this."
With a sharp crack, the Overlord’s joints moved as if they were alive, the full force of the swing transferring perfectly from one end to the other.
"Your snake sword is a summon, right? Think of it less as swinging a sword and more as moving an undead with your will."
"Hm!"
"Just hold the sword still and try moving only the blade."
Arthur closed his eyes. The tip of the snake sword flicked up and down, guided by his will.
"Good. Now, raise the hand holding the sword."
Arthur’s hand went up.
"And move the blade as you strike down!"
’Vwoom!’
Arthur’s sword descended, the force transferring along its joints, and the tip of the snake sword finally sliced through the air in a powerful arc.
"Oh! Ooooh! I did it! I did it! Did you see that, Senior?" Arthur jumped up and down with joy.
Simon smiled proudly and ruffled his hair. "Don’t forget that feeling. Do about thirty more reps, then come on up."
"Yessir!"
Arthur diligently practiced, the sword whistling through the air as Simon climbed the basement stairs to the clubroom. Three first-years who were assembling a skeleton greeted him. Simon blinked.
"Somehow, there are fewer people than usual."
"It’s probably because Sasha and Molly are gone!"
After the Ever Kire incident, Sasha had returned to Pentamonium for treatment. The shock of a Saintess’s essence entering a necromancer’s body must have been immense. As for Molly, a state of emergency had been declared in the Dresden Kingdom over the Seventh Legion Commander incident. As a royal, she had temporarily returned to the palace.
A knock came from the clubroom door. "Come in," one of the first-years called out.
The door creaked open, and the first-years’ eyes went wide.
"Sasha’s here!"
"Sasha!"
Sasha, looking a bit healthier, smiled, greeted her classmates, and then approached Simon.
"How are you feeling? Are you okay?" Simon asked with concern.
"Yeah. They said there was a bit of a rejection reaction, but I think I’m fine. The doctor told me not to overdo it for a while."
"That’s a relief." Simon sighed, genuinely relieved. It was fortunate they had extracted the ’Essence of Harvest’ so quickly.
"But, Simon."
"What is it?"
"By any chance..." Sasha tilted her head, looking up at his face. "Did you have white hair?"
The out-of-the-blue question made the other first-years look on in confusion. Simon, however, was inwardly breaking out in a cold sweat.
’D-does she remember?’
While Simon was panicking internally, Sasha blushed, thinking of the white-haired boy from her dream. The man who had saved her when she became a false saintess in the neutral zone. It had happened again. She didn’t have a clear memory, but she’d had a dream that was too vivid to be just a dream—one where the white-haired boy had saved her once more. Sasha was certain. Simon had saved her this time, too.
"I’m not sure what you mean."
Seeing Simon sweating profusely, Sasha smiled sweetly and threw her arms around him, taking him completely by surprise.
Her classmates watched, indignant.
"Whoa, that’s cheap! Hugging him all by yourself!"
"You think you can get away with anything just because you were sick!"
Sasha stuck her tongue out at them. Flustered, Simon gently pushed her away.
"Ahem."
A cough came from behind them. Fitzgerald was sitting in the vice president’s chair, reading a newspaper. He’d been so quiet Simon hadn’t even noticed him. Simon gestured for Sasha to greet him, and she finally approached Fitzgerald.
"Vice President, I’ve returned."
"Ah, good to see you’re safe," Fitzgerald said, pushing up his glasses with feigned sternness.
Sasha quickly turned back to her classmates, and Simon walked over to Fitzgerald’s side.
"What are you reading?"
Without a word, Fitzgerald showed him the front page. Simon couldn’t help but flinch.
<Complete Analysis! The Returned Commander of Betrayal: Who Is He?>
