"Damn it!!"
Enraged, Malcolm continued squeezing out jet-black to summon more Doppelgangers.
Simon knocked away the staff that had been embedded in the ground, but the magic circle remained completely intact, and the summoning continued without the slightest problem.
So the staff wasn't the medium for the spell.
Simon gave a regretful smile, while Malcolm became even more determined after seeing that his spell remained unaffected.
"So what if one attack got blocked! Nothing has changed!"
Malcolm's Doppelgangers charged toward Simon once again. This time, however, they didn't attempt to surround him all at once. Instead, they came in staggered waves from different directions, trying to overwhelm him through continuous attacks.
Simon calmly scanned his surroundings before moving one arm.
Subspace opened around him once again, and four bladed tentacles made of metal and bone quietly slid out.
Each blade moved in a different direction and at a different speed, yet somehow, none of them interfered with one another. Instead, they complemented each other perfectly, covering every opening created by the others.
Any weapon that moved only in a straight line would inevitably leave gaps.
The Overlord's blades, however, twisted, coiled, and curved through the air, filling those openings with an organic flow.
It was control that had long surpassed simple practicality and entered the realm of beauty.
The four blades crisscrossed around Simon, flawlessly protecting their master from every direction as he finally began moving forward.
Screeech—
His left foot remained planted within the magic circle beneath him, allowing the formation to remain active while he freely maneuvered the Overlord's blades around his body.
Malcolm, on the other hand, was far more restricted.
His own magic circle covered a large section of the arena floor, but in order to continuously channel jet-black into the Doppelganger spell, he had to keep one foot connected to the formation.
In other words, Malcolm's maximum range of movement was limited to the edge of his magic circle.
Chwarurururuk! Chwaruruk!
The Overlord's blades swept through the arena, cutting apart one Doppelganger after another. Every clone they touched immediately burst apart and scattered into the air like coal dust caught in the wind.
Before long, Malcolm's Doppelgangers were being destroyed almost as quickly as he could summon them.
He bit his lip while watching the perfect copies of himself get slaughtered one after another.
"Waaaahhh!"
"Well done, Number 1!!"
The spectator stands erupted into a frenzy.
Malcolm's Doppelganger was certainly impressive, but Simon was displaying a combat style so unique that none of the spectators could compare it to any ordinary necromancer they knew.
Naturally, almost every eye in the arena was now focused on him.
Even the high-ranking officials sitting in the VIP section couldn't hide their admiration. After all, in their eyes, no matter whether there were two Special Entry No. 1s, three, four, or even more, there was only one person they truly regarded as the number one among them.
Knox Aznable.
That was an undeniable fact.
However, Simon's fresh and unusual combat style was beginning to change the way they looked at him as well. The more they watched his performance, the harder it became to dismiss him simply because another student carrying the same title happened to shine far brighter.
At the very least, some of them had already stopped thinking of Simon as merely "The other Special Entry No. 1."
"Amazing. The titles of Kizen's top student and one of the Special Entry No. 1s suit him well."
"What kind of black magic is that?"
"It isn't black magic." A young woman's voice suddenly answered them.
"It's a combat style that uses subspace to repeatedly summon and retrieve something. Whatever he has stored inside that subspace must be his summon!"
Hearing the unexpected explanation, several nobles immediately turned toward the source of the voice.
The one who had spoken wasn't a noble from some prestigious necromancer family.
It was Princess Molly of the Dresden Kingdom.
Upon realizing who it was, several of the nobles around her nodded knowingly. Those who frequently attended Kizen's public events already knew that Molly rarely missed a Duel Evaluation and possessed surprisingly deep knowledge about necromancy.
Meanwhile, Molly had already turned her attention back toward the arena.
Incredible! Her eyes shone with excitement as she lightly bit the tip of her thumb.
Even if a necromancer's summons are undead, such intricate control is actually possible?!
The more she watched Simon fight, the more her previous impression of him began to change.
Apparently, Jane hadn't been bluffing when she said Simon was worth watching. Before witnessing this battle herself, Molly had never really considered Simon someone truly worth paying attention to. To her, aside from sharing the title of Special Entry No. 1 with her idol, Knox, there simply hadn't been much about him that caught her interest.
But now... Molly didn't want to miss a single moment.
Without even realizing it, she leaned farther and farther forward until her hips had nearly lifted from her seat.
That name is worth remembering! Simon Polentia!
A moment later, however, another thought immediately followed.
Of course, Senior Knox is still number one!!!
Meanwhile, in another section of the stands slightly away from the VIP area, a very different atmosphere lingered.
"Professor Bahil. Keep your expression in check. Ex-pres-sion."
Chehekl, the top assistant of Katarology, snapped her fingers in front of him as a reminder.
Because Bahil had been in a foul mood for almost the entire month. Nothing had gone the way he wanted.
Putting aside the matter of recruiting Knox into the Curse Research Club, Bahil wasn't even confident that he could influence the boy enough to make him lean slightly toward the Curse Department.
Just thinking about that alone was already frustrating enough. Unfortunately, Knox wasn't his only problem.
Simon hadn't joined the Curse Research Club either. And now, as if rubbing salt into the wound, the student Bahil had taken an interest in was standing in front of a huge audience...
Showing off Summonology. Of all things, it had to be Summonology.
But when Chehekle finally looked properly at Bahil's face, she froze.
Rather than the demonic expression she had expected, Bahil was wearing a strangely soft smile, almost like a grandfather proudly watching his grandchild perform.
"Talent and potential both have their limits," Bahil said while licking his lips. "But this far exceeds those limits! Isn't it magnificent?"
Chehekle stared at him in surprise.
"You're not angry that Simon isn't using curses?"
"Of course I'm angry. I'm furious! However!"
Unable to contain his excitement, Bahil straightened his posture and leaned forward.
"If a genius like that even considers joining me, then yes, I'll gladly be patient!"
"Though anyone can see that Professor Aaron from Summonology is currently leading the race to recruit Simon."
"There's no need to rush. That talent will come to me eventually." Bahil rested his chin on his raised knee, his smile never disappearing. "At least for this moment, while watching his match, I want to be a pure necromancer too."
He paused for a moment, his gaze remaining fixed on the arena before his smile slowly deepened.
"Besides, although Simon Polentia is indeed worthy of my attention, I still haven't given up on bringing the White Devil over to my side."
Back in the arena, the flow of the match was increasingly shifting in Simon's favor.
Twenty Doppelgangers that Malcolm had carefully accumulated could disappear from only a few sweeps of the Overlord's blades. Even when Malcolm directly controlled two or three clones and used them to create feints, Simon refused to fall for them.
Simon wasn't simply predicting their movements. He watched every movement until the end and reacted accordingly. It was a luxury made possible by overwhelming speed and the stability that came with it.
Damn it!
Malcolm took another step backward while rapidly calculating his remaining jet-black.
I'm starting to run out, and he keeps getting closer.
Before he knew it, his heel had nearly reached the outer edge of the Doppelganger magic circle.
If he retreated even one step farther, he would lose the ability to continue summoning.
I have to go all in now!
This was no longer the time to worry about methods.
Malcolm reached behind him and opened his subspace, allowing a fist-sized blue potion bottle to fall into his palm.
It was one of the specialty products created by the enormous Randolph gang.
Its true nature was a liquid bomb that exploded violently when infused with jet-black. Made using byproducts taken from the explosive monster Longor, the Randolph gang had made a fortune distributing the weapon while crushing countless rival organizations along the way.
Normally, the risk of the caster being caught in the explosion made it suitable only for desperate situations.
For Malcolm, however, that weakness could be bypassed with Doppelgangers.
He squeezed out more jet-black and instantly summoned another ten clones.
Chachachak!
The Doppelgangers immediately began switching positions at high speed.
At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than another attempt to confuse Simon, but during the rapid shuffle, Malcolm secretly passed the explosive potions to three of his clones.
This ends it! Go!
The ten Doppelgangers rushed toward Simon from different directions.
Simon kept one Overlord blade close for defense while sending the remaining three forward.
Chwaruk! Chwarururuk!
The blades slithered through the air like enormous snakes, tearing apart every Doppelganger they reached. Then, as one of the clones was destroyed, a potion bottle fell onto the arena floor with a dull thunk.
A trailing Doppelganger immediately picked it up.
But Simon didn't miss it. An explosive potion!
Malcolm's lips stretched into a triumphant grin.
Even if you noticed, it's too late!
The remaining Doppelgangers charged straight toward Simon, each explosive potion already glowing with jet-black.
Black light spread rapidly from within the bottles.
I won!
BOOOOOM!!!
A massive grey explosion erupted from the center of the arena.
Spectators instinctively screamed and lowered their bodies. Although a powerful barrier surrounded the stands, the force of the explosion was still strong enough for everyone to feel the impact through the floor beneath their feet.
Malcolm took the backlash head-on and laughed wildly.
Sneaking the bomb away behind his father's back had been worth it.
He would probably get an earful later, but defeating Special Entry No. 1 and earning a place within Noble would be a far greater reward.
KUGUGUGUGU—
Thick smoke and dust blanketed the entire arena.
The roaring spectators quickly fell silent as everyone held their breath, waiting to see what remained after the explosion.
"There!"
Someone suddenly shouted.
"I can see him!"
"He's still fine, as expected!"
"Waaaaaaaaaaaah!"
The arena erupted once again.
Malcolm looked around in confusion.
No way. He withstood that firepower?
As the dust gradually cleared, even Malcolm finally saw what had happened.
Chark. Charururuk.
Six Overlord blades were tightly coiled around Simon, overlapping one another like a gigantic serpent protecting its nest. There wasn't even the slightest opening between them.
Slowly, the blades began spreading apart. From within the darkness behind them, Simon's eyes shone with a piercing light.
Malcolm suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as a chill ran down both arms.
I'm feeling fear?
The thought itself felt ridiculous. He had always been the one others feared. He had always been the one who instilled it.
Before Malcolm could recover from that feeling, one of the Overlord blades shot toward him with a sharp shwik!
Thud!
The blade pierced through a Doppelganger standing directly in front of Malcolm.
Cold sweat immediately ran down his back. Fortunately, the blade reached its limit and simply slithered backward after destroying the clone.
"Ha!"
Malcolm immediately regained his confidence.
"Hahahahaha! It's useless! I've already calculated your attack range!"
Chwarururururuk!
Another blade suddenly shot toward him.
"I said it's usele—!"
Before Malcolm could finish, the tentacle-like structure of the blade suddenly unfolded.
A hidden mithril frame extended from inside. Its length increased by nearly one and a half times.
Simon smiled. This is fun!
There was a special thrill in trapping an opponent inside their own patterns and logic, only to break those rules right in front of them.
Malcolm's face twisted spectacularly.
KWAANG!
The Overlord blade slammed directly into his chest. His body flew several meters through the air before crashing violently into the arena wall.
While excited cheers poured down from every direction, Simon released a long breath.
My limit's approaching.
The finger wearing his subspace ring was already burning hot. Simon recalled all of the Overlord's blades and began walking toward Malcolm.
So far, almost everything had gone according to plan.
In fact, although the explosive potion had been unexpected, Simon had remained cautious from the very beginning.
Before the duel began, Knox had approached him and warned him to watch out for any petty tricks Malcolm might try to pull. He hadn't explained exactly what Malcolm would do, but that warning alone had been enough to keep Simon on guard.
Fortunately, thanks to that, Simon had managed to defend himself against the unexpected explosion without suffering any serious damage.
More importantly, before the ring could completely overheat from the tremendous load, Simon had successfully pushed Malcolm outside the range of his magic circle.
Malcolm had already burned through an enormous amount of jet-black continuously summoning Doppelgangers.
Simon, meanwhile, had fought most of the match by relying almost entirely on the Overlord.
He still had far more jet-black remaining. If both Doppelganger and Overlord were now effectively sealed, Simon would have an overwhelming advantage from this point onward.
"Hehehe!!"
Malcolm staggered back onto his feet and glared at Simon.
"You think you've won?"
He grabbed the artifact hanging from his neck.
"The real battle starts now."
Wuuuuuuuuung!
The artifact erupted with fierce light.
A huge amount of refined jet-black flowed out from within it before coating Malcolm's entire body. The energy gradually hardened into armor.
The moment she saw it from the VIP stands, Princess Molly abruptly stood up.
W-What?! Why does that treasure belong to the son of a gang leader?
This armor was entirely different from the Dark Robe used in Magical Combat, which formed a protective layer using the user's own internal jet-black.
The energy released by the artifact solidified directly around Malcolm, creating a complete set of armor that covered him from head to toe, including a helmet over his face.
It was the infamous Dark Knight Armor, an artifact used by the Dark Knights of the Dresden Kingdom.
"Bwahaha!"
Malcolm laughed madly before tracing an R-shaped symbol through the air with one hand.
Molly's expression immediately turned cold.
You foolish brother!
"Simon Polentia."
Now completely clad in Dark Knight Armor, Malcolm began approaching him with a wide grin.
"This is a gift from someone who holds a grudge against you."
Simon scratched his temple. He honestly couldn't remember doing anything that should've made someone hate him that much.
"This is what people call karma, right? Your past actions returning like a boomerang."
"That's amusing." Simon smirked before reaching toward the empty air and pulling an imaginary lever.
Two Skeletons emerged from subspace.
"Then I'll wear mine too."
"What?"
Chwarururuk!
The two Skeletons immediately broke apart.
Bones flew toward Simon from different directions before beginning to attach themselves piece by piece to his body.
The nobles with necromancer backgrounds immediately erupted in shock.
"It's Bone Armor!"
"A first-year is using Bone Armor?!"
Chak.
Chak.
Chachachak.
Bones continued locking into place until Simon's entire body was covered.
Once the final piece settled into position, he looked down at his newly equipped Bone Armor with obvious satisfaction before raising his head toward Malcolm.
"Wanna make a bet?"
"What?"
Simon lightly stroked the surface of his Bone Armor and grinned.
"On whose suit is better."