"Hah... hah..."

Simon gasped for breath as he pounded up the circular staircase. The magic circle elevators had been shut down the moment he and Merida had vanished. He recalled the Ghost of Time’s warning from a few days ago.

"There’s no doubt the Tower Master is plotting something. I can’t stop the future from changing due to a third party! If something happens to you, come up."

"Up?"

"Yes. Going down will only lead to you being caught. "

"How far up?"

The Ghost had pointed a spectral finger toward the ceiling.

"To the 100th floor, of course!"

The plan was set: if things went south, he would execute his mission on the 100th floor, regardless of what the past held. Pier’s clone, clinging to his uniform, spoke up.

[Heh heh! Can you really trust this Ghost of Time fellow?]

"I can’t trust him completely. I have no idea what he plans to use me for," Simon panted. "But at the very least, he doesn’t want me to be captured by the Ivory Tower. And it seems he truly is an enemy of the Tower Master."

Their goals were in direct opposition. The Tower Master sought to use the tower for some dangerous purpose, while the Ghost sought to protect it for his own survival.

"His advice about being caught if I went down was also sound. For now, our best bet is to meet him upstairs."

[Alright! Alright! I don’t really get it, but—!]

Prince, the Ancient Undead Simon had just summoned, slammed his fists together. [So we just have to keep going up, right?]

"That’s right, Prince."

[But why’d you give me this uniform?]

Prince was currently wearing Simon’s Kizen uniform, the hood pulled low over his face.

"Listen carefully, Prince," Simon said, his eyes serious. It was time for a little motivational speech. "This is top secret. You can’t tell the other undead. This is a secret mission entrusted only to you."

Prince snorted, puffs of air jetting from his nostrils. [A. Se.cret. Mis.sion?]

"That’s right. From now on, you are the Kizen student, Simon Polentia." Simon clapped him on the shoulder. "You must talk like Simon, act like Simon. Run around the tower and draw everyone’s attention."

Prince’s expression fell. [Ah, what? This is just a typical diversion, isn’t it?]

"But you have a secret you can’t tell anyone. Your true identity is Prince, the ruler of Deathland."

A flicker of interest appeared on Prince’s face.

"You must completely hide the fact that you are the Zombie Prince and ruler of Deathland. You must endure the solitude of pretending to be a normal student."

[I must hide the fact that I’m the ruler... from everyone...]

"Exactly. It doesn’t matter if no one knows, if no one acknowledges your greatness. That is the burden of a secret mission."

Simon slapped Prince on the back. "Go, Prince."

Prince’s eyes lit up with the thrill of a new game. [I am—!]

He kicked off the ground and shot into the air. Before him stood the wall blocking the way to the 70th floor.

[Simon Polentiaaaa!]

Prince smashed through the ceiling like a cannonball. Debris rained down as he burst through the opening.

"What the—!"

"That black uniform...! It’s Kizen! It’s Simon Polentia!"

Prince landed, twisting his left hand into a bizarre pose to cover his face. [...Yes, everyone calls me Simon Polentia. But that matters not.]

"Get him!"

The Ivory Tower guards unleashed a volley of black magic. Prince clenched his fist, completely lost in his role. [It doesn’t matter if no one knows! For this is my mission!]

He drew his fist back with all his might. [Royal Guard—]

As a dark blue Jet-Black coalesced on his knuckles, he thrust it forward.

[Punch!]

The shockwave from his fist obliterated the guards’ spells. A massive crater bloomed on the wall, and the guards were sent flying from the sheer force of the blast. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"Wh-What is this monstrous strength!"

[Again!]

This time, his left fist came up. [Overlord Punch!]

"Aaaargh!"

[And now, the Bone Armor Punch!]

As Prince wreaked havoc among the guards, Simon slipped past unnoticed.

’...Did I overdo the pep talk?’ Simon wondered, glancing back with an awkward laugh.

[Heh heh heh! You’ve become a proper Legion Commander, boy! That’s how you handle an Ancient Undead!]

As Prince’s rampage continued, reinforcements arrived. Seeing their comrades strewn across the floor, the new arrivals’ faces hardened.

"So this is the Kizen Student Council President."

"Surrender, Simon Polentia! As a dispatch student, you will not be forgiven for causing any more trouble!"

[Hmph. Hmph. Hmph.]

Prince pressed his bent right hand to his forehead and muttered to himself. [Living as someone who is not me... perhaps it’s not so bad.]

"What has he been mumbling about this whole time?"

"Get him!"

The guards unleashed spells of fire, ice, and lightning from all directions. Prince just cackled and charged through them.

"Don’t let him get away!"

The guards scrambled after him. One of them, however, raised a hand. "Wait... I know what the report said, but... doesn’t Simon Polentia seem a bit short?"

"Is this your place to talk? Just run!"

"Get him! We have to catch him here on the 70th floor!"

The rookie guard’s astute observation was promptly ignored.

---

Using the chaos Prince had created, Simon regrouped with Akemus, who reported that he had left Merida in a deserted room. Simon had set the ’Sleep’ curse to be short-lived; she should be awake by now.

"...I hope she’s okay."

[She will be safe, Young Master.]

Simon nodded and looked ahead. "To get to the 100th floor, we have to take the circular staircase, right?"

[Yes.]

The tower’s staircase was split into two sections: one from the 1st to the 70th floor, and another from the 70th to the 90th. The blockade was at the 70th floor precisely because it was a defensive chokepoint. Prince was keeping the main security force busy, but there would still be guards stationed on the upper staircase.

"How long to the 90th floor?"

[Five minutes will be sufficient.]

Simon had no choice but to trust him.

Akemus spread his massive wings, and Simon buried his face in his chest.

The two wings enveloped him completely.

[Hold on tight, Young Master!]

Akemus’s beak opened wide.

With the shriek of a monstrous bird, he launched himself into the air, scattering black feathers as he shot toward the staircase leading to the 90th floor.

"What is that thing!"

"Just shoot!"

Black magic rained down from the necromancers below, but Akemus absorbed the blows and continued his ascent without faltering.

---

At the top of the circular staircase. The 90th floor.

’—A strange creature is heading for the circular staircase! It’s a flying entity!’

As Simon had predicted, the defenses here were heavy. A senior necromancer listened to the report through a communication crystal. "Is it Simon Polentia?"

’—Negative! Simon Polentia is still being pursued by the main guard!’

A junior guard leaned in. "Sir, what do you think that creature is, then?"

"It doesn’t matter." The senior necromancer deactivated the crystal. Just then, he felt an immense surge of Jet-Black from the 70th floor below. "I’ll take full responsibility. Whatever comes up, unleash all firepower and shoot it down."

"Yes, sir!"

The guards on the 90th floor aimed their staves down in unison. A kaleidoscope of elemental magic formed at their tips.

"It’s coming!"

An indescribable shape, a churning mass of pitch-black crow feathers, was soaring up the staircase.

The senior necromancer gave the order. "Fire."

It was a spectacular sight as hundreds of spells ignited in a blinding flash of light. They slammed into the mass of black feathers, creating a thick cloud of smoke.

"It’s a hit!"

"It must have been blown to bits...!"

"Keep firing. Do not stop."

On their commander’s order, the guards continued to pour magic into the smoke, firing blindly. The aftershocks of the explosions shook the entire tower, crumbling the stairs.

But, just then, withstanding the full barrage, the mass of feathers burst through the smoke, its ascent unbroken.

The guards’ faces went slack with disbelief.

"He’s past the eightieth floor!" one of them cried.

"We must have fired hundreds of shots...!"

"Out of the way," a senior necromancer commanded. While the guards of the Tower of Time were a step below those from the Ivory Tower’s main headquarters, some were formidable warriors handpicked by the Tower Master himself. At the necromancer’s gesture, a silvery liquid began to morph into a long, gleaming spear.

---

"...Ugh!"

The firepower was staggering. Though Simon was shielded within Akemus’s body, the sheer force of the impacts was enough to make his head spin.

’Akemus! Are you okay?’ he projected.

Akemus’s voice echoed in his mind.

[I am fine, Young Master! At this rate, we’ll reach the ninetieth floor—!]

A sickening crack resounded as Akemus’s body, impervious to all black magic until now, was pierced. As the silver spear struck home, Simon felt the strength drain from his summon’s form.

"Akemus!"

[Damn it, is that mercury!] Akemus hissed. It was one of the few substances to which it was vulnerable. Simon was unharmed, but the direct hit had dealt a devastating blow.

"Are you alright?"

[My apologies, Young Master! I could restore my body with time, but any further flight is... impossible!]

At those words, Simon’s eyes darted around the cavernous space. As he weighed his options, he spotted a rabbit mask stuck squarely to the wall of the eighty-eighth floor.

’A signal from the Ghost of Time!’

Simon gripped Akemus’s frame.

’Throw me to the eighty-eighth floor! You need to retreat and recover!’

[Yes, my apologies! I wish you good luck!]

Akemus hurled Simon with all its remaining might. In the same instant, another barrage of black magic rained down from the ninetieth floor, and the great feathered creature began to plummet.

’Akemus...!’

Clinging to a railing, Simon watched his loyal summon fall.

[Khahaha! Don’t you worry, boy!] Pier’s voice resonated from the sword. [With that one’s regenerative abilities, it’ll be fine.]

The guards above didn’t give chase; defending their post was clearly their top priority. Simon let out a silent breath of relief and turned his attention to the rabbit mask on the wall. He scanned his surroundings.

What was here? A secret passage to the ninetieth floor?

’Ah.’

Staring straight ahead, Simon let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. He raised his arm to the side.

’Pier, if you please.’

A subspace tore open, and Pier emerged. In a flash, the ancient skeleton disassembled into a cascade of bones that slipped beneath Simon’s robes, solidifying into a form-fitting suit of armor with a quiet ’click’.

Lifting the Greatsword of Ruin, he faced the darkness. The path the Ghost of Time had shown him wasn’t a secret passage at all.

’So, I’m supposed to use him.’

Slow, heavy footsteps echoed from the shadows, accompanied by a voice like scraping metal.

[I smell the stench of Kizen.]