The first day for the new students at Kizen finally came to an end.
Before leaving for the night, the first-year professors gathered in the lounge, tea cups in hand, casually exchanging impressions about the incoming class.
"Meilyn Villenne exceeded expectations," one professor said. "She managed to brew Shanif poison on her very first day."
"That bloodline really is something," another agreed. "All seven of her siblings were outstanding."
"What about the Ivory Tower's official heir?"
"Serene? No need to ask. There's a reason she carried herself with that much confidence back there."
"And Lorain Archbold?" someone added.
"I heard she used to be… unmotivated. Lazy, even," a professor replied thoughtfully. "But seeing her in class today, it looks like those were just rumors. As expected of the future leader of the Dark Alliance—her power is terrifying."
"Chatel Mayer shouldn't be forgotten either. People say giant-blooded hybrids lag behind in magic, but that kid excels across the board."
"Careful, Professor. You sound like you're trying to steal our Chatel already."
"Haha, listen to you. Acting like he's already yours."
"You do realize early contact during the student protection period is against regulations, right?"
Laughter followed, lighthearted yet edged with professional rivalry.
"Still," another voice chimed in, "if we're talking about outstanding students, there's one we can't leave out."
"Him, huh?"
"You mean Knox Aznable."
"You didn't even need to say the name," someone scoffed. "One word sums him up—monster. Or rather, considering his nickname… devil."
"He's a perfect hexagonal talent. His control over darkness is flawless, and somehow his mana control is just as precise. I've never seen someone handle both at that level."
"His theoretical knowledge is absurd too. Maybe that's why he's such a genius writer. His novels aren't just entertaining—you can tell he studies deeply."
"Oh, by the way, isn't it true that Knox lived with Lorain Archbold for several years? And under Principal Nefthis, no less."
"Maybe that's why Lorain stopped being lazy," another professor chuckled. "Ah, youth~"
The conversation drifted on, half-joking, half-serious, as cups were refilled.
"Hey, Professor Bahil."
Bahil Amagar, the Katarology professor, had been quietly savoring his tea with his eyes closed. He opened them slightly and nodded.
"You had Class A today too, right? How was it?"
"What exactly are you asking about?"
"Oh, don't play dumb. I mean the Joint Special Entry No. 1—personally selected by Lady Nefthis."
Bahil set his cup down, a faint smile forming.
"If you're referring to Simon Polentia," he said calmly, "then yes—he's a complete beginner. Zero experience with curses."
"…That's unexpected. Still, he is Special Entry No. 1. Wasn't there anything extraordinary?"
Bahil didn't answer right away. "His perseverance," he said finally. "He didn't give up, no matter how unfamiliar or difficult the task was. In the end, he successfully cast an Exhaust Curse."
"Perseverance is admirable," someone commented, "but for Special Entry No. 1, that sounds a bit… underwhelming."
"And the other one?" another professor asked. "Knox Aznable."
Bahil nodded. "I don't think I even need to answer that—but I will. In my class, he cast Exhaust Curse as naturally as breathing."
A few professors leaned forward.
"I arranged a practical session between Knox Aznable and Hector Moore."
"Oh? The Moore family descendant?"
"That must've been interesting. Who won?"
For a moment, Bahil looked as if he'd just been asked the most pointless question of the year. Still, his tone remained even.
"The winner was Knox Aznable."
He continued, voice steady. "At first, he allowed Hector to cast Exhaust Curse on him repeatedly. It didn't leave so much as a scratch. Knox didn't even change his posture—except to yawn."
Murmurs spread through the lounge.
"And when Knox finally counterattacked," Bahil said, "Hector was knocked down with a single Exhaust Curse."
Silence.
"Just one curse?"
"Against Hector Moore?"
"I expected Knox to win," someone muttered, "but not like that."
"So which is it, then?" another professor asked slowly. "Is Knox Aznable overwhelmingly powerful… or is Hector Moore, despite his lineage, simply weak against curses?"
Clack.
At that moment, the door to the professors' lounge opened. Still disheveled and dragging his slippers, the Summonology professor, Aaron, walked in.
He gave a brief bow to the professors, then walked straight to the coat rack to grab his outerwear, showing little interest in their conversation.
"Speaking of which,"
Bahil brought it up. "Senior Aaron also had Class A today, right?"
Everyone's gaze turned to Aaron. He wordlessly picked up his coat.
"So what."
"What did you think of Joint Special Entry No. 1?"
Before anyone realized it, all the professors in the lounge were staring intently at Aaron.
A silent pressure demanding an answer.
Aaron let out a quiet sigh, then spoke in his characteristic drowsy tone.
"One is a dull, average kid. But he had the creativity to craft a uniquely defective piece."
"..."
While the other professors murmured among themselves, Bahil alone wore a creeping smirk on his lips.
This senior just laid down some smoke.
Having often worked with Aaron in the field, Bahil knew his nature better than anyone. If Aaron truly disliked a student, he wouldn't beat around the bush like that.
A dull, average kid.
The creativity to craft defective products.
Coming from Aaron, that was perhaps the highest praise he could give.
…Now I'm even more intrigued.
Chosen by Nefthis. And marked by the ever-picky Aaron.
Bahil felt his thoughts about Simon turning into a stronger certainty.
Then Bahil continued, turning back to Aaron. "Then what about the other number one?"
The other professors immediately chimed in.
"Yes, yes. How about the other one—Knox Aznable?"
Hearing the name, Aaron let out another sigh. This time, he looked almost at a loss for words.
"As for Knox Aznable," he said slowly, "I think he can be summed up in one word."
He paused.
"A monster."
Then he corrected himself.
"Or rather—considering his nickname—a devil fits better."
The professors leaned forward slightly. Their eyes all but begged him to continue.
Aaron went on.
"In my class with Class A, I held a participation session using the skeletons they assembled on the spot. But before it even began, Knox said something."
Aaron's brows knit faintly.
"At first, I didn't believe a word of it."
He exhaled.
"And then reality slapped me hard."
The room fell quiet.
Even Bahil, who usually couldn't resist commenting, stayed silent, listening intently.
"That's when I understood something about Knox Aznable," Aaron continued. "Not just his strength."
He lifted his gaze.
"Insight. Calculation. Prediction."
Aaron said the words one by one.
"He excels at all of them."
The professors exchanged looks, puzzled.
Bahil, speaking for everyone, finally asked, "What do you mean by that, Senior?"
Aaron answered in his usual lazy tone, though the seriousness on his face didn't match it at all.
"Before the session started, most people had already predicted that Hector would win," he said. "Considering what Simon showed in my class—an amateur level, honestly—even I thought Hector would take it."
He paused. "But Knox," Aaron continued, "with that relaxed confidence of his, said something else. He claimed that Simon Polentia had greater potential than Hector. And that Simon would win."
Several professors exchanged looks.
"And to make things worse," Aaron added flatly, "he turned it into a bet."
The atmosphere shifted.
"A bet?" one professor asked. "What kind of bet?"
Aaron exhaled slowly.
"He said that if his prediction was wrong, he would give everyone in that class his new novel."
The room froze.
"Not only was it unreleased," Aaron went on, rubbing his temple, "most people didn't even know he had a new novel. And apparently… it was already finished."
He let out another sigh.
"Normally, you'd assume someone like him was still preparing one. Turns out, he'd already completed it."
The reaction was immediate.
Some professors' mouths fell open. Others stared blankly, as if their minds had short-circuited. A few even pushed themselves halfway out of their chairs.
Bahil was no exception. His eyes gleamed with something dangerously close to madness.
Because this wasn't just any novel. They were talking about Knox Aznable's work.
Naturally, the first thing that came to mind was Death Note.
A novel that had introduced an idea so absurd on the surface, yet so disturbingly elegant in execution, that it had shaken the field of curse studies. A notebook capable of killing someone simply by writing their name—such a concept had torn open entirely new lines of thought.
For curse specialists, it was nothing short of revelatory.
Some had described it as having their horizons forcibly expanded. Others had joked—half seriously—that it made them want to tear their hair out from frustration.
It was inspiration of the heaviest kind.
In a way, what Knox had written felt like a dimensional strike against the entire Dark Alliance's understanding of curses.
Ironically, Knox himself had never seen it that way.
To him, Death Note had simply felt… appropriate for this world.
If he ever found out what people really thought of it, he'd probably just laugh, clap his hands once, and say something like
"Wow, you guys are really good with words. And your imaginations are amazing too!"
"Then—then what about the result?!"
One of the professors blurted it out, unable to hide his impatience.
Aaron answered flatly, "The winner was Simon Polentia. Barely."
It felt as if cold water had been poured over the room.
The excitement that had been building just moments ago cooled instantly. Even Bahil's expression stiffened for a split second.
"Well," one professor said after a pause, trying to recover, "at the very least, we learned that Knox has already finished a new novel. That alone is big enough."
The others nodded in agreement.
"By the way, Senior," Bahil spoke up gently.
"Last year, you mentioned that you would no longer take personal students. Should we still consider that statement valid?"
"..."
Aaron, who had been about to leave, stopped mid-step.
The lounge fell silent. All eyes turned toward him. The air grew heavy.
"P-Professor Bahil…"
The female professor beside him whispered nervously, but Bahil only kept his calm smile, patiently waiting for an answer.
Just as Aaron was about to open his mouth—
Clack!
"Hey, hey, everyone~!"
A silver-haired girl came trotting into the lounge.
"Lady Nefthis!"
At once, the prestigious faculty of Kizen—those said to be capable of shaking the continent itself—bowed deeply in unison.
"You've arrived."
Bahil, ever the gentleman, stepped forward first. From his pocket, he pulled out an item and presented it to her.
Chocolate ice cream.
Bahil was the only person in all of Kizen who carried ice cream enchanted with freezing magic in his subspace—just in case he happened to meet Nefthis.
At first, Bahil truly was the only person in all of Kizen who carried ice cream enchanted with freezing magic in his subspace.
That position, however, quietly crumbled the moment Knox entered this world. Because Knox carried ice cream too.
Not just ice cream, to be precise—but an entire assortment of food items neatly stored inside his inventory.
"Ugh, I told you to stop treating me like a kid!"
Despite her protest, Nefthis immediately snatched the ice cream from Bahil's hand.
"Preparing snacks for a lady is a gentleman's virtue," Bahil replied smoothly.
"Hmph. Smooth talker." Nefthis took a bite.
Her cheeks flushed at once, and for a brief moment, the great Witch of Death looked like nothing more than a bashful girl her age, savoring something sweet.
Several professors bit their lips at the sight.
They dared not allow such blasphemous thoughts as she's cute to linger for long.
And then—
Her expression flattened. The warmth vanished from her face as if someone had flipped a switch.
Bahil noticed immediately.
What's wrong?
Did it melt improperly?
Was it stored wrong?
Should I curse the vendor?
Before he could voice any of it, Nefthis spoke first. "This ice cream isn't delicious anymore."
She said it plainly—despite having eaten every last bite.
Then, as if to add insult to injury, she reached into her subspace and pulled out another ice cream.
The moment it appeared, several professors felt a strange sensation.
…It was glowing.
Nefthis took a lick.
"Hm, hm~"
"Now this is delicious."
She smiled brightly. "As expected from Knox!"
The room froze. Bahil's eyes widened.
"…Knox? Knox Aznable?"
Nefthis nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! That Knox."
Then, as if casually dropping a bomb, she added—
"Just so you know, Knox's cooking has already been officially acknowledged by master chefs. Even my head chef—and several head chefs from other royal families—have accepted it."
Silence. Then shock. Again.
Because of Knox.
Bahil felt a dull ache forming in his temples.
From the way she talks…They're close. Far closer than rumors suggest.
Living together for years had clearly done more than just sharpen Knox's talent.
It seemed even the Witch of Death herself had fallen victim—to his cooking.
"Please, have a seat, Lady Nefthis."
Then, one of the professors hurriedly pulled out a chair for her. The seat was a little too large, and Nefthis had to grab the armrests and climb up with a bit of effort.
"Whoop!"
"So, how were the freshmen on their first day?"
She asked casually while enjoying her ice cream, and the professors immediately began sharing their impressions.
Rather than focusing on already well-vetted special admissions like Serene or Chatel, the discussion naturally shifted toward standout performers—Meilyn and Hector from Class A, Kaez from Class B, and a handful of others.
Nefthis nodded along, listening with interest.
Before long, the conversation drifted to her daughter, Lorain, and her soon-to-be son-in-law—a title Nefthis herself had already decided on—for Knox.
"Mm, good, good!" she said cheerfully.
"Looks like my daughter has really grown. And that Knox too—sounds like he's already given some of you headaches!"
She waved her hand lightly.
"Anyway, if there's anything truly troublesome, report it properly. Since it's the first day, go home early and get some rest."
"Yes!"
"Lady Nefthis."
Then it happened. Aaron, who had remained silent the entire time, finally spoke.
"I'd like to speak with you alone, if I may."
The lounge fell quiet. Several professors widened their eyes.
While professors of Kizen did have the right to request an audience, directly asking for a private conversation like this was rare.
"Okay."
Nefthis smiled lightly as she stepped down from the chair. Aaron gave a short bow and followed her out of the lounge.
Still as direct as ever.
After Nefthis left, Bahil leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs as a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
But Lady Nefthis won't give you what you want that easily, Senior.
————————————
Character Voicelines · Knox: About Death Note
Knox: There was a time when I was walking through a park and noticed some kids role-playing as necromancers. Some of them even had a notebook—writing names down and shouting, "Your name has already been written! You're dead!"
Knox: Hearing kids say things like that, I thought… maybe I should introduce something a little more 'appropriate' for them.
Knox: For example—A Dog of Flanders. Or The Little Match Girl. Hehe… (｀ω´ )ψ