novelraw Chapter 473: Episode 473
Chapter 473: Episode 473
"Special Admission No. 1, Sasha Andrasil! Please come up to the stage!!"
The hall fell deathly silent. Not just the thousand first-years, but even the guests on the upper floors were stunned by the name.
"Who’s Sasha?"
"Never heard of her."
"I thought the Mercenary King was No. 1?"
Ignoring the whispers of her classmates, Sasha walked toward the stage. She was almost unrecognizable. Her eyes shone with intelligence, her once-gaunt frame had filled out, she had grown taller, and her short brown hair was full of life. Dressed in a Kizen uniform, she bore no trace of the grimy orphan from the Neutral Zone. She was a swan.
Simon watched her pass, his own expression a mask of surprise.
They crossed paths. Simon turned to look back, and Sasha did the same, offering him a small wave.
"See you in a bit, Simon."
"Yeah," he replied with a faint smile. "Congratulations on being No. 1."
She responded with a smiling nod and ascended the stage. Arthur, already there, stared at her. She took her place beside him and said bluntly, "What are you looking at?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if you also knew the Student Council President."
"That’s none of your business," she retorted.
Arthur figured she was just in a bad mood and turned back to the front. A subordinate placed a paper with the oath before them.
"Match my pace," she said.
"No way. You match my signal," he shot back.
Bickering, they both raised their hands and shouted without waiting for the other.
"I swear!"
"I swear!"
As they began, the other first-years raised their palms and recited the oath along with them.
’This feels strange,’ Simon thought, watching the scene with a satisfied expression as he waited to be called for his own investiture. ’To think those two are Special Admission No. 1 and No. 2.’
Sasha, reciting the oath smoothly, glanced toward Simon. She gave him a quick wink and then sped up, racing through her lines. Arthur, caught off guard by the sudden change in tempo, stumbled over his words, drawing laughter from the crowd.
"Agent Simon!"
In the middle of the oath, Seiwyr discreetly approached him.
"Ah, it’s been a while, Seiwyr." The two shook hands warmly.
"The connections between people are truly amazing," Seiwyr said, looking at Sasha. "An orphan from the Neutral Zone becomes Kizen’s Special Admission No. 1, a low-ranking agent like me gets to host the ceremony, and Agent Simon is here as the Student Council President."
"Yes," Simon said, his voice thick with emotion. "It really is amazing."
Just then, the first-years’ oath concluded. Seiwyr stepped forward to lead the applause, while Sasha and Arthur, already at odds, exchanged fierce glares as they descended from the stage.
The curtain behind the stage was pulled back, and a subordinate in broadcasting gestured. "Mr. President! This way!"
"Right, I’m coming."
Stepping backstage, Simon was startled by the organized chaos. Subordinates were running around frantically preparing for the next segment. A pot-bellied, middle-aged man was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief before being called by Seiwyr and rushing out onto the stage, followed by a wave of applause.
"Mr. President, you’re up right after this," a subordinate said rapidly, flipping through a stack of papers. "You know the procedure, right? Place the skull staff before the Acting Headmaster, kneel on one knee, and she’ll drape the president’s coat over you. Simple, right? It’s like the Necromancer’s Oath. Then you give your speech—just a few words about how you feel."
"A staff?" Simon asked, bewildered. "What staff?"
"Here it comes now."
Two subordinates were struggling to carry a large, ornate ceremonial staff topped with a massive skull. It looked incredibly heavy.
"Oh! And you have to hold it with one hand."
Simon tried to lift the staff with one hand and immediately gave up. Channeling Jet-Black into both arms, he was barely able to hoist it. A bitter smile touched his lips. ’I’ll have to use Internal Jet-Black Eruption just to hold this with one hand.’
A subordinate checked the stage and turned to him. "Mr. President! It’s almost time!"
"Right. By the way, who is the Acting Headmaster...?"
"Vice-Headmaster Jane, of course. The Headmaster should be here, but as you know, she’s a very busy woman."
Just then, the man’s speech ended, followed by Seiwyr’s closing remarks and another round of applause.
"Alright, Mr. President, it’s your turn!"
---
In the third-floor VIP section of the Grand Auditorium, renowned elders from the Dark Alliance sat in elegant chairs, observing the ceremony.
"This year’s ceremony is quite lackluster."
"The host is an expelled necromancer, Special Admission No. 1 is a commoner, and No. 2 is a mercenary, I hear."
"A mercenary is one thing, but Sasha Andrasil? I’ve never heard the name."
"They say she’s from the Neutral Zone, with no proper background. Lady Nephthys must be getting old."
"It’s just that last year’s first-years were too exceptional."
Dick, leaning against the back wall and listening to their chatter, grinned. ’Yep. Knew you’d be complaining.’
After the current boring speech, it would be Simon’s turn. The speech was almost over.
’Now’s the perfect time!’
Dick snapped his fingers. On cue, a wheeled cart rolled to a stop in front of the VIPs.
"Wh-What is this?" the old men asked, turning in surprise.
Student council subordinates respectfully opened bottles of whiskey and poured the liquor into fine glasses. They then draped small tablecloths over the armrests of the elders’ chairs, dampened them, and set down the drinks.
"A gesture from the students, for our esteemed elders."
"Ooh—"
The faces of the complaining old men brightened as if by magic. "Our students prepared this?"
"Yes."
The elders, who had been craving a drink, didn’t hesitate to wet their throats with the fine whiskey. Pleasant laughter filled the section.
"Excellent taste! Mmm!"
"Is this a 20-year-old Bloody?"
"How thoughtful of the students."
"Everyone, look at this! They’ve placed a tablecloth on the armrest. The Old Chair style."
"For these young ones to know the Old Chair... they certainly know their etiquette!"
Watching the VIPs’ mood shift so dramatically, a smile spread across Dick’s face. Of course, these powerful men were used to such treatment, but they were still human. An unexpected gesture of sincerity at an unexpected moment could work wonders.
And now...
’Here it comes!’ he thought.
"—Kizen’s new Student Council President for this year, second-year student Simon Polentia! Please come forward!"
The news that a second-year, not an Aizel, was becoming president had not been announced publicly. At the very moment the hall should have erupted in confused murmurs at the words ’second-year Student Council President’...
"Whoaaa!"
A tidal wave of cheers erupted from the first-years.
"What’s with them?!" one of the third-years muttered.
The cheers came from the first-years Simon had brought from Langerstine—the very boys and girls who had witnessed his heroism firsthand.
"Simon! Simon!"
Led by Arthur, the first-years chanted Simon’s name, and their classmates were quickly swept up in the boisterous atmosphere, clapping and laughing along.
"A second-year is the president?" one of the VIPs mused.
"Ho ho! What does it matter if he’s a second-year! He’s clearly popular with his juniors!"
"New wine in new bottles, as they say. Indeed."
The VIPs, now in high spirits after their first drink, did not look upon Simon’s appearance unfavorably.
But on the second floor, the expressions of several third-years began to harden.
"He’s popular with the first-years."
This makes the situation more delicate.
With a thousand students, the first-years were Kizen’s largest class. If Simon secured their unwavering support, even the third-years would have to tread carefully.
With the heavy ’thud’ of his staff on the floor, Simon emerged from behind the grand stage, his physical abilities amplified by his Internal Jet-Black Eruption. Seizing the moment, Seiwyr excitedly roused the crowd.
"Everyone, please give a thunderous round of applause for our new Student Council President!"
As the roar of cheers washed over him, Seiwyr turned with a satisfied smile. "Now, Acting Headmaster! If you would please come forward..." His breath hitched.
But it wasn’t Professor Jane. The figure who approached with light, quick steps was a small girl with silver hair—the Witch of Death, the absolute ruler of Kizen.
"Lady Nephthys is here in person!"
"My gods!"
A wave of murmurs swept not only through the adults on the upper floors but also the first-years on the ground level.
"She’s so tall!"
"No, she’s short, isn’t she?"
"Sh-She looks terrifying!"
"She’s beautiful! Look at those eyes!"
"She has three of them!"
It was a perception-enhancing spell; everyone saw the Witch of Death they expected to see, the image they had projected onto her.
Of course.
’Aren’t her clothes a little too big?’ Simon wondered.
He and the few others who knew Nephthys’s true appearance saw her simply as the small girl she was.
"How unexpected."
"To think Lady Nephthys would come herself."
Everyone was stunned. It had been over a decade since the Headmaster herself had attended a Student Council President’s inauguration instead of sending her deputy.
Nephthys trotted over and stopped in front of Simon, who greeted her in a low voice. "I didn’t expect you to come in person."
"It’s the least I can do!" she declared, crossing her arms with a faint smirk. "We have a contract, after all."
"...Ah."
Nephthys had promised to help Simon reform the reputation of the 7th Legion—the infamous Legion of Betrayal—so it could one day operate freely. Her presence was more than a simple acknowledgment of a second-year president; it was another step in grooming a future Legion Commander.
At Seiwyr’s cue, Simon placed his heavy staff on the floor and knelt on one knee.
With a sharp flick of her hands, as if shaking out laundry, Nephthys conjured a flash of golden light. A long coat materialized in her grasp—the legendary Student Council President’s coat, a garment far beyond the simple uniform jackets worn by ordinary students.
She trotted forward and draped the symbol of power over Simon’s shoulders. As the crowd’s fervent cheers echoed through the hall, Simon rose to his feet.
He bowed first to Nephthys, then to the third floor, then the second, and finally to the first-year students on the ground floor.
Seiwyr brought him a voice-amplifying crystal sphere.
"I am your Student Council President, Simon Polentia," he began, his voice clear and steady. "I stand here today having been granted an honor I feel I have yet to earn. But having accepted this duty, I will not forsake my responsibility, if only for the sake of those who placed their trust in me."
His gaze flickered briefly toward the second floor before returning to the crowd.
"Our student council exists to represent you, the students, and to protect your rights. We will not be swayed by one-sided opinions or ideologies but will always strive to make wise and rational choices. We will communicate, debate, and act swiftly. We will prove ourselves through our actions. I ask that you continue to watch over us."
Amidst a final, thunderous ovation, Simon handed the crystal sphere back to Seiwyr and descended from the platform. Meirin and Kamibarez, seated in the front row, leaped to their feet, clapping wildly. Behind them, other first-years like Sasha, Arthur, and Molly cheered just as loudly.
In the VIP section, the elders, their spirits lifted, nodded in approval.
"The young man is personable and well-spoken."
"There’s no reason a second-year can’t handle the job. Indeed!"
Hearing their praise, Dick grinned and poured the last of the alcohol into his glass. He stepped forward, watching the spotlight that bathed Simon in its brilliant glow.
’Yeah, just keep shining like that, Simon,’ he thought.
He raised his glass.
"I’ll take care of the dirty work."
With a slight tilt of his glass in a mock toast, he took a sip.
A soft chuckle from behind made Dick flinch. He turned to see Mojo, the leader of the student council’s direct subordinates, smiling at him.
"In the end, Mr. Treasurer, you’re still just an eighteen-year-old, aren’t you?"
Dick’s face flushed as he cleared his throat. "K-Keep this between us."