[614] The Hottest Place (3)
"A pleasant sight."
Roskas Pioorde, who had been sitting at the party table with Maranov Pisho, said.
At school he kept his robe hooded and cultivated a reputation for gloomy, wicked amusements, but today he was sharply dressed. Anyone who didn't know him would never guess his specialty was the most virulent branch of Toxic Magic.
"Kaiden's graduating this time."
Pisho had learned Kaiden's position as president of the Female Human Physiology Society during the Scramble Royal.
But the Golden Aureole had already been disbanded, and Kaiden was preparing to step out into the world. If he hadn't been holding himself back, he'd easily have made the top ten in the final rankings — and Pioorde himself was the sort who'd never missed the upper ranks.
"I couldn't care less about Kaiden."
Pioorde slit his wrist with a razor-sharp thumbnail and let a drop of blood fall into his cup.
"...What poison is that?"
"Kedraffusa."
A plant that only grew on a tiny uninhabited island in the equatorial sea—its pure extract could fell an elephant in under a minute. It was the key ingredient of a lethal toxin.
He swirled the cup and took a sip; the tongue-tingling sting made his mouth contort.
"Heh heh, that's the taste."
"Poison runs in you, huh."
"A human liver's a vast chemical warehouse. With enough adaptation, poison can become medicine."
Most couldn't adapt, though, which was why it was called poison.
"Eat a lot of good stuff while you can. Your livers'll be gone by the graduation exam."
Roskas Pioorde (final year, final rank 9).
Major: Virulent branch of Toxic Magic.
Notable: Mass-slaughter magic that does not distinguish friend from foe.
"Um…"
A female student from Bermin School of Magic approached. Her hair was pinned up, dark circles rimmed her eyes, and her lips were violet.
"Pioorde?"
In the cramped world of toxin magic, Pioorde recognized her immediately.
"Windia, Witch of Rot."
She nodded without expression.
"Right. By any chance… is that what you put in the drink earlier, Kedraffusa?"
"So?"
Windia showed the first hint of emotion she'd displayed.
"You've neutralized Kedraffusa?"
"Well… I've eaten it since I was born."
The Roskas family had royal approval to develop chemical weapons for the kingdom.
Windia blinked and asked cautiously, "Can I try a sip?"
"Be my guest."
Pioorde offered the cup and she lifted it, touching her tongue to the liquid.
"Hgh!"
The moment her tongue met it, a nearly melting sting slammed into her brain. She'd trained her liver on countless poisons, but this was beyond endurance.
"Wow, this is incredible."
She staggered back from the brink and kept gushing.
"I've never tasted a poison this good."
"I'm glad you like it."
Windia eyed the scar on Pioorde's wrist, smacked her lips, then grabbed a strand of her hair. "Want me to try yours? This one's Taropascal."
There was a tearing sound as the hair snapped off near the middle.
"Taropascal?"
It was a toxin that rotted flesh. Pioorde rubbed the hair to straighten it, popped it into his mouth, and chewed.
"Hmm, this is…"
"How is it?"
"Well made. A bit bland, though."
If Kedraffusa was spicy cuisine to Pioorde, Taropascal was like a side of pickled greens.
"See? Right? I want to synthesize something with this."
"Try adding sap from Fustan mushrooms. It might speed the decay…"
Their poisonous-concoction discussion went on until Pisho sighed and left the table.
With nowhere proper to go, he wandered, and a student from the Royal School of Magic cautiously approached from behind.
"Master, long time no see."
He was a cleric who had studied under Francis Keller, an authority on Insect Magic.
"Have you prepared well for the graduation exam?"
"It's not especially important to me. My teacher values learning itself over results. But this time he's made a big decision."
Pisho tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"He told me to graduate and come back. He's been here too long."
The cleric took something from his inner pocket and handed it over.
"He authorized its use."
Inside a transparent vial, a dark-red parasite writhed.
"See you in the capital next year, then."
The cleric walked away and Pisho tucked the vial deep into his inner pocket.
'…I have to graduate.'
Maranov Pisho (final year, final rank 24).
Major: Evolution Acceleration branch of Insect Magic.
Notable: Keller's star disciple.
As darkness fell and the party warmed up, the posturing students began to clash. Alpheas School students weren't exempt, and while the Royal School students hunted for prey they started hassling Suabi.
"Hey, you. What rank are you at school?"
Suabi, never very social, stepped back at the sudden confrontation.
"What's it to you? Get out of the way. I don't want to talk to you."
As he tried to slip past, a hulking student over two meters tall blocked him.
"We're just asking, no need to be hostile."
"18th. Happy now?"
He tried to pass, but the bulk felt like a black wall.
"Haha! Middle rank for someone who only uses utility magic? I told you the Spirit magazine made it up."
Royal School students blamed Vice Principal Olivia for Scout Baikal being poached by Alpheas. Given that Olivia had once been principal of the Royal School and the teachers' council conducted audits, people were understandably cautious.
"Listen up. No matter how much you flap around, you can't even touch the Royal School's heels."
Suabi's eyes suddenly sharpened. If your mental discipline was already barely enough, being cowed by another school's students would hurt your exam performance.
"Ooh! Did you see him glare at me? That's scary."
"Hey, you lot. Cut it out."
When the students surrounding Suabi turned, Screamer stood with his hands in his pockets, cocky as ever.
"Who are you?"
"Do I have to say? From the look of it, you've memorized Spirit magazine cover to cover."
Hyde Allen, third-ranked at the Royal School, approached.
"Kids playing in the shallow end are amusing. But I don't even remember your face."
"Suabi, come over here."
Screamer waved, but the hulking student refused to give way.
"If you're so confident, come and take him. If you crawl between my legs I won't do anything nasty."
The Royal School graduation class burst into laughter.
Normally Screamer's temper would've overturned the whole lot, but given the timing he restrained himself and walked over.
"Suabi, let's go. Don't bother with these losers."
"Losers?"
"You guys coasted into twenty slots — must be why you're so relaxed. We aren't."
"Hahaha! Of course. That's the difference between Royal and regular schools."
"I hear your average ability is supposedly 3.8 times lower than ours."
The jab hit the hulking student's insecurity.
"You really think we'd believe that nonsense? That's fabrication."
"I think so too. Must've printed an extra dot in the magazine. From the look of you, you're at least thirty-eight times worse."
"You son of a—!"
The hulking student grabbed Screamer by the collar and dragged.
"You go around mouthing off because you've got a mana control device? You're not even a one-fist distance threat."
"Is that so? You can't even lift me?"
"What's this?"
The hulking student looked down and realized Screamer's feet hadn't left the ground.
"This…!"
He strained, but Screamer didn't budge as if nailed to the spot.
'I remember him now…'
Before Allen could say anything, Screamer seized the hulking student's collar himself. Although he had to raise his arm high because of the height difference, in an instant the balance flipped.
"Gah!"
Screamer pulled, and the giant's body dropped as if the ground had opened beneath him.
Kneeling from the irresistible force, the giant looked up in disbelief just as a brutal gust heralded a fist.
"Ugh!"
A bang hit his eardrums and the fist stopped right in front of his face. Seeing a suit sleeve spin and wrap tightly around the arm as it rotated, even the hulking student couldn't help but realize—
'Mana-Pugilist Screamer.'
Screamer withdrew his fist, twisted the giant's hand off his collar, and released him.
"I get pride's wounded, but if the Royal School's trash is trash, let the Royal School deal with it. None of our kids have time to care about you."
Logan Screamer (final year, final rank 10).
Major: Photon Magic, Mana-Pugilist branch.
Notable: Completed brawler Pyroker's Iron Fist project; capable of one-hit finishing strikes.
"How dare they look down on us!"
The Royal School students surged at Screamer. Alpheas students answered and matched numbers. The party's atmosphere soured into a standoff between the two schools while the remaining three schools watched the situation gravely.
"You think you can get cocky just because you've got a little local hype? Let's see who's the kingdom's best!"
Electric Monster Lycan grinned and made come-on gestures with both hands.
"Puhahaha! Cocky? Fine, if you're confident, come at us. I'll make you the biggest idiot to die right before the graduation exam."
"Hmph! You thought we didn't have schema users? If we didn't have Mana Control Devices, you'd be wiped out today!"
As the shouting rose, Maya stamped her foot. "This is bad. They can't fight today."
Kaiden stepped in front and said quietly, "It'll be fine. Nothing will happen."
At least the Royal side would be fine.
"Get out here now! Why don't we have a proper fight? Let's show who's the kingdom's best!"
At the Royal School's provocation, Fermi brightened and stepped forward.
"That's it. On that note, I've got a fun little game to propose—"
"Fermi, shut up!"
Everyone who knew Fermi shouted. "Don't you dare get involved!"
Fermi always made everything worse.
"Hmm, Mana Control Device, huh."
Dante, sitting at a nearby table and turning his cup, fell into thought. A man from the Royal side with curly red hair approached.
"Long time, Dante."
It was Curtis, who had once competed with Dante for top rank at the Royal School.
"You were here too?"
"Haha, no use pretending you don't know. You were in Spirit magazine anyway."
"Do you think I read that rag?"
A year ago Dante had been swamped by interview requests and sick of it. After a pause, Curtis spoke casually.
"You know what I regret most before graduating? Never getting to fight you properly at the Royal School."
"So that implies you'll definitely graduate?"
"Of course. Not to brag, but I'm rank one at the Royal School."
It was a boast.
"You were rank two, weren't you? Even the mighty Dante has limits."
Who would've thought Dante, once called the kingdom's top, would be beaten by an unknown named Shirone and then lose first place to a long-term repeating student like Fermi?
"Well, maybe. If you're so sure, try stopping it."
Dante pointed his cup at Fermi.
'Heh. His pride's hurt. That's what you get for looking down on me, Dante.'
Curtis, thinking that, walked toward the scene.
"Everyone, stop."
When the number one showed up, the Royal side quieted, and Fermi turned to Sabina. "See? Even two number-ones get treated differently."
"You know what? You're best when you just sit still."
Curtis stepped up and offered a handshake. "On behalf of the Royal School, I apologize. Let's end this here. The Association won't like a scene."
Fermi took his hand. "I'd like that, but as you can see, our school has a tradition of openly ignoring our top rank."
"You planning to keep at it?"
"No. You say things to someone who'll listen."
"Who's that? Dante?"
"There he comes."
When Fermi pointed, all 149 people in the room turned to the doorway.
"What's with this mood? Aren't we partying?"
Shirone blinked, looking perfectly innocent.