Chapter 780: Episode 780

Claudia’s protesters had completely occupied the plaza in front of the Student Council building.

The "direct underlings" guarding the entrance couldn’t lay a finger on Kizen students without explicit orders. They could only stamp their feet anxiously behind the barricades.

"The new Student Council needs to answer for this!"

"Explain yourselves!"

Shouts from first- and second-year students rang out from every direction. What had started as a small picket protest had swelled into a massive demonstration.

They now formed a tight perimeter around the building, perfectly timed for the new Student Council’s morning arrival.

"Claudia!" a first-year junior shouted, running over in a panic. "Balak is coming!"

"I see him," Claudia replied, her voice tight with tension.

Suddenly, the sky above turned pitch-black, as if violent storm clouds had rolled in. The surroundings darkened in an instant, and a thick, suffocating fog blanketed the area.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the sudden silence. Everyone gulped, holding their signs high as they stared straight ahead.

A group of figures advanced toward them through the black fog. For now, they were nothing more than blurry silhouettes.

Then, a massive man stepped through the dark smoke.

A network of jagged scars marred his broad shoulders, thick neck, and rugged skin. His eyes were dark and brooding, framed by thinning hair and shriveled cauliflower ears.

With every breath, a toxic haze seeped from the metal mask covering the lower half of his face.

It was the new overall rank one among the third-years, and undeniably Kizen’s strongest student.

Student Council President Balak.

Striding forward with the black coat of the presidency draped over his shoulders, he exuded a truly overwhelming aura of intimidation. Gripped by a suffocating fear, the students unconsciously flinched and clamped their mouths shut.

’Was Balak always this intimidating?’

’His charisma is insane.’

They had heard he was previously overshadowed by Aizel, but seeing him in person, the sheer weight of his presence left everyone speechless. The new Student Council members following behind him flashed cruel, mocking smirks.

Claudia took a deep breath, raised her sign, and projected her voice.

"We condemn the third-year faculty and the new Student Council for their unjust replacement of the president!"

Only then did a few students snap back to reality, forcing out shouts of, "We condemn them!" A handful joined in, even as their hands trembled in fear.

Balak’s eyes slowly shifted toward Claudia as he waded through the sea of protesters.

[I’ve seen your face before.]

A heavy, resonant voice flowed from beneath his mask.

Claudia was a Lethal Poison major, so naturally, she had run into Balak, the third-year Lethal Poison class representative, a few times in the dormitories.

Being directly within his sphere of influence made it incredibly dangerous to make an enemy out of him, but she had stepped forward for what she believed was right.

She met his gaze boldly.

"I suppose you have."

[Why do you oppose this matter?]

"Because the process was neither correct nor just."

Sota Pshyke, the former Necromancy class representative walking right beside Balak, scowled deeply.

"What did you just say, you little punk? Has a second-year lost her damn mind..."

Balak silenced Sota with a mere glance before looking back at Claudia.

[In this place, power is justice.]

"Even if that were true, replacing the president without a fair process to measure that power is absurd."

Balak began moving again. His massive Student Council President coat, entirely different in size from the one Simon wore, flapped heavily as his voice rang out.

[If you have complaints, take them to Simon Polentia. If he is truly confident in his power, he will come to take my seat using his Challenge Right.]

Claudia blinked.

’Challenge Right?’

---

It was finally the start of the new semester, the day of the Summoning department’s first major class.

The first day of the term was always the most vibrant day of the year. Reunited after the break, students beamed with joy and chatted excitedly.

Just then, Simon entered the lecture hall, his bag slung casually over his shoulder.

The lively chatter subtly died down, but only in his immediate vicinity.

Simon looked at his peers and offered a cheerful greeting.

"Hey."

The surrounding students flinched. Then, as if on cue, they forced bright smiles and raised their voices a pitch too high.

"O-Oh, hey Simon! Ahaha!"

"Did you have a good break? The Student Council... Ugh!"

A male student who had mindlessly tried to bring up the presidency doubled over when the girl next to him viciously elbowed him in the ribs.

’Read the room!’ her eyes screamed.

A strange atmosphere of pity seemed to be forming, but Simon paid it no mind. If anything, it felt like the people around him were the ones walking on eggshells.

He took his usual seat, set down his bag, and pulled out his textbook.

"Wah! Hey! Hello! It’s been so long!"

Along with an overly energetic morning greeting, someone suddenly popped up in front of Simon’s desk.

With her fluttering tangerine bob, a striking hairpin, round eyes, and a genuinely bright smile, it was Eshe Arjel from Simon’s Summoning Group 10.

"It’s been a while, Eshe," Simon said, smiling warmly.

Seeing him return the greeting, she flashed a toothy grin.

"Did you have a good break? You did, right? You always looked so tired, but your complexion is much better now! Did the president go on some fancy retreat over the break..."

She gasped, quickly clamping her hands over her mouth as though she had just committed a terrible crime.

Seeing her wildly scold herself and rap her knuckles against her own head made Simon chuckle.

"I’m completely fine, Eshe."

"Ugh, I’m sorry. I tried to be careful, but I messed up again. Oh, right! While we’re on the subject, let’s sort out what to call you. What should I say from now on?"

"You can just call me Simon."

"Ah, well." Her expression turned a bit strange. Slowly, she parted her lips. "Got it, Si...mon... Ack!"

Blushing furiously, Eshe jumped in place, her fingers curling and trembling from the sheer cringe.

"It’s so awkward trying to act all close and use your first name after calling you by your title all this time! It’s embarrassing!"

"You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

The peers who had known Simon since their first year all called him by his name, but those who only got to know him in their second year mostly referred to him as "Student Council President" or "President."

It was similar to how Class A called Jamie "Class Rep." The impact of the title was so strong that both the address and her image had solidified that way.

"Everyone’s going to call you Simon now, so if I do it too, it won’t be unique! I’ll call you Group Leader from now on, okay? Group Leader!"

"Haha, do whatever you want."

Eshe took the seat in front of him and launched into a noisy stream of chatter.

Listening to her, he couldn’t help but wonder where all that explosive energy came from. She was a work-study student, meaning she had likely woken up hours before everyone else to clean and do chores before coming to class.

Just as Simon was starting to feel dizzy from her endless talking, a familiar face approached.

"O-Oh, hey!"

Toto, who had come to school with Simon but had to run to the restroom due to his chronic bowel issues, returned.

Eshe threw her hand up. "Yo! Toto!"

"Ah, hey Eshe," Toto greeted her with a blush.

Perhaps because they had worked part-time together over the break, the two seemed to have grown a bit closer.

"Now we just need Lorraine to arrive and Group 10 will be complete! We all survived!"

"Yeah, we did."

Though not to the extent of the first year, second-year students with low grades were still ruthlessly cut. That usually happened at the end of the semester, but there were definitely slightly fewer students in the lecture hall than before.

’So this is how the new semester begins.’

Simon sat back and scanned the room.

The heavy hitters caught his eye first.

Overall rank five and written exam rank one, Aseraz Mikel.

The mysterious transfer student, White.

The president of the Mutation Club, Fitzgerald.

And then, Hector.

’Hector.’

Right on cue, Hector entered the lecture hall, wearing the second-year class representative armband on his shoulder. As always, he was surrounded by his noisy faction.

Then, Hector and Simon made eye contact.

Simon gave a polite nod in greeting, but Hector dismissively turned his head away and walked toward his usual seat in the back.

Just then, a voice called out.

"Oh, you’re already here? Good to see you! Student Council President!"

Simon turned his head.

A male student from Hector’s faction, someone whose name Simon didn’t know, only recognizing his face, was waving at him with a mocking grin.

"Oh, my bad! Should I call you the ’former’ Student Council President now?"

Simon didn’t respond.

"Being Student Council President isn’t everything in school life, you know. Stop looking so gloomy and cheer up."

It was a common occurrence at Kizen. There was always someone who couldn’t help but envy the successful and mock the fallen.

’He might have been treated well when he was the Student Council President, but now that he’s back to being a regular student, Hector, the class rep, has more pull!’

The power dynamic had shifted. The boy clearly intended to make a laughingstock out of Simon, who had always been compared to Hector. After delivering his jab, he flashed a wide smile and looked around for approval.

However, an uncomfortable silence enveloped the entire lecture hall.

’There’s a limit to being this clueless,’ thought Pierre Buckley, a longtime member of Hector’s faction and his de facto right hand, as he facepalmed.

The guy had recently joined Hector’s faction and had even been invited to his house over the break. Having formed a connection with the Moore family, he was probably incredibly excited and trying to prove his loyalty however he could.

But it had backfired completely.

"Don’t you think that was uncalled for?" someone muttered.

"Who does he think he is? Ruining the mood on the very first day."

The atmosphere turned icy.

The current sentiment within the school was overwhelmingly favorable toward Simon, buoyed by strong feelings of sympathy. When Simon was Student Council President, there might have been a mood of jealousy and envy toward the second-year "nepotism hire" who had received Phantastus’s blessing. But now that he was seen as having been unjustly ousted, things were completely different.

’On top of that...’

Pierre turned his head.

Hector’s expression was twisted into a vicious scowl.

’Even Hector himself isn’t happy about this situation, you idiot!’

The boy likely saw that Lorraine and Serne hadn’t arrived yet and thought it was the perfect timing to shoot his mouth off, but it was the worst possible move.

As the mood soured, the student looked to Hector for help, but Hector just walked past with a disgusted glare and slammed his bag down on his desk.

The other faction members kept their mouths shut and quietly took their seats nearby.

The male student awkwardly tried to sit next to them, but Pierre spoke quietly.

"I don’t think that’s your seat."

They had no need for fools.

In the end, the boy who had only managed to freeze the lecture hall’s atmosphere had no choice but to hang his head and apologize to Simon. Eshe and Toto glared at him angrily, but Simon kindly told him not to worry about it.

"He’s just on a completely different level."

"If he can’t read the room, he should just get lost."

Simon looked somewhat bewildered as he watched his peers actively take his side.

A moment later, Lorraine entered, followed closely by Serne.

Spitting with indignation, Eshe immediately tattled to Lorraine about what had just happened. When Lorraine’s quiet, murderous fury locked onto the boy, he desperately avoided her gaze.

Serne, sitting in the seat behind Simon, leaned in and whispered softly into his ear.

"You’re angry, aren’t you? Disillusioned? With the people at Kizen Headquarters. After you worked so hard for the school, this is the result."

Hearing that, Lorraine bit her lip tightly.

For once, even she couldn’t refute Serne’s words.

"I told you, I’m fine," Simon said with a gentle smile. "I’m actually more at ease being the challenger now. It’s motivating, too."

"It would be nice if you got angry once in a while." Serne tossed her ivory hair and gave a light wink.

Soon, teaching assistants began to appear at the front of the lecture hall one by one.

"The professor is entering."

The scattered students rushed to their seats. Shortly after, accompanied by the sound of dragging slippers, Aaron shuffled in with his messy, unkempt hair.

He was still wearing his incredibly comfortable-looking short-sleeved shirt and casual shorts, sporting a scruffy beard that looked like it hadn’t been shaved in quite some time.

He stopped at the podium and swept his gaze across the room before speaking.

"Did everyone have a good break?"

"Yes!"

A lively response echoed back. Aaron accepted a document from the head teaching assistant and began to speak.

"Before we begin the second semester, I have a few important announcements to make. Some are related to the department, and others are related to the school."

A dead silence fell over the room.

Brimming with enthusiasm for their first class, the students pulled out their notebooks and prepared to take notes.

"First, I’ll announce the most important department notice. It’s regarding the Summoning major class."

He picked up a piece of chalk and turned to the blackboard.

"This semester, the objective for our second-year Summoning department is this guy."

The white chalk danced across the green blackboard, the sharp clack of each stroke spelling out a single, earth-shattering term.

The students’ eyes, calm at the first letter, widened at the second.

By the third letter, they started jumping out of their seats, and by the fourth, gasps began to spill out.

By the final letters, almost everyone was on their feet.

’CLACK’

"Think you can handle it?"

Written on the blackboard was none other than the summon everyone had dreamed of.

’Death Knight’