Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 120

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Necromancer School’s Summoning Genius Chapter 120
“Come on, get up!”
Malcolm, clad in the Black Knight’s armor, charged forward trailing black smoke. His fist, encased in that dread plating, swung with lethal intent.
Whoosh!
Simon twisted his shoulder smoothly to slip the blow, sliding sideways as he drove his left fist out in return.
Crack!
Malcolm’s head snapped back hard. But he powered through the impact, extending his opposite arm in a counterattack. Simon didn’t yield—he drove his right fist forward to meet it.
Crash!
Crack!
Their fists crossed and struck each other’s faces simultaneously.
The Black Knight’s helmet and the skull helmet groaned and twisted against each other, and both their heads whipped around from the collision.
“Raaaaaah!”
The audience’s roar reached a fever pitch at this sudden exchange of blows.
Simon stepped back and wiped his mouth. Malcolm remained unmarked, but Simon’s Barrier Gauge had taken a noticeable hit.
Malcolm noticed and let out a contemptuous laugh.
‘Pure hand-to-hand won’t cut it.’
Simon’s Bone Armor was still in its early stages—it bolstered defense over bone-covered areas and could generate an exoskeleton-like strength enhancement using an undead’s Core. But even with that, the effects weren’t comparable to what he could achieve with other summons.
Back in Blue Harbor, he’d weaponized this ability perfectly, arming the townspeople in bone armor to drive out the pirates. But that was different—he wasn’t relying on someone else’s Core the way Malcolm was. For his own body, which ran on its own internal Dark Element, the effect was far more modest.
Wearing a standard skeleton suit instead of Pier just made his movements sluggish and clumsy. Direct Internal Dark Element Manipulation to enhance himself was far more efficient.
That’s why Simon had prepared a different approach to Bone Armor altogether.
“Grraaah!”
Simon ducked beneath Malcolm’s incoming punch and drove himself into Malcolm’s space with violent speed.
He threaded one arm under Malcolm’s armpit and bent it, then pivoted his body behind Malcolm’s back. Seizing Malcolm’s other arm and cranking it locked, Simon tilted his weight—and Malcolm’s balance shattered.
“What—what the hell? You little bastard! Let go!”
No amount of armor could save a fighter caught in a joint lock or submission hold.
Simon channeled Dark Magic at once.
‘Bone Armor!’
The Bone Armor plates wrapped around Simon’s body peeled away in sections and clung to Malcolm’s Black Knight suit like parasites.
“You son of a bitch! What are you doing?!”
Simon smiled sweetly.
“I figured you couldn’t beat me with just one suit, so I’m giving you mine too.”
“You bastaaaaard!”
Power surged through Malcolm’s body. Distracted by maintaining focus on his Bone Armor, Simon momentarily lost his grip on Malcolm’s right arm and retreated quickly to dodge the incoming elbow strike.
“I’ll kill you!”
Freed from Simon’s hold, Malcolm charged in wildly and threw a vicious punch. Simon arched his back so far his head nearly touched the floor, slipping beneath the strike.
‘Flexible!’
Gasps of admiration erupted from the crowd.
Having evaded the attack, Simon grabbed Malcolm’s right arm and pulled while driving his right leg up in a powerful kick, the impact buckling Malcolm’s knees.
Thump!
Smack!
As he struck, more Bone Armor segments from Simon’s arm began transferring onto Malcolm’s limb.
‘What in hell is he doing? This is insane!’
Fury had consumed Malcolm’s reason, and he windmilled his fists in wild desperation.
From Simon’s perspective, Malcolm’s Fighting Style was textbook striking—nothing more, nothing less.
Simon stayed pressed close, methodically layering more bone plating across Malcolm’s frame.
“Simon! What are you doing?”
Merin’s voice rose sharply from the stands.
“Your opponent is a special admissions student! They said if you don’t fight seriously, who knows what could happen!”
Kamibarez turned in her seat, her expression creased with worry.
“Dick, did Simon mention anything to you about this?”
“Not directly, but I can guess what he’s planning.”
“You can?”
“There’s something Simon’s especially good at in Summoning Studies.”
Dick smiled knowingly and held up two fingers.
“Restoration and Control.”
Simon fell back, breathing hard.
By now, Malcolm’s Black Knight armor was visibly caked with bone segments—especially concentrated on his arms and legs where the impacts had been heaviest and most sustained.
“You think you can win with this kind of fooling around?”
Malcolm grabbed one of the bone plates stuck to his waist. With a sharp crack, he tore it free and hurled it to the ground.
The moment Malcolm reached for the next bone plate.
Whoosh!
Simon launched himself from the ground and charged forward. Malcolm tensed visibly at the sudden shift in momentum and drew his fist back.
‘Stop.’
Simon’s Absolute Command fell like a gavel.
A violent pull seized the bone attached to Malcolm’s arm, and his limb froze mid-motion.
“What the—my arm!”
Crack!
Simon’s straight punch connected clean with Malcolm’s face.
Malcolm staggered backward, gasping, and tried to swing his other arm—but
‘Stop.’
The skeleton’s interference held him once more.
Simon twisted his hips and drove a weighty roundhouse kick into Malcolm’s head. The helmet rippled into the shape of flowing shadow for an instant, then solidified back into its original form.
“Ugh!”
Whether it was plate armor or a barrier, impact always found a way through.
Malcolm’s vision swam as if his brain itself were shaking. This time, the Barrier Gauge cracked further.
“That’s it—I’ll just tear this damn thing off!”
Simon, of course, would never allow it. He drove three consecutive punches into Malcolm’s skull, slipped past a retaliatory blow, and slammed a precisely angled spinning kick into his ribs.
Thud!
As Malcolm crashed to the ground, Simon rushed in, seized the helmet, and drove his knee down in a series of strikes.
Crack! Crunch! Crunch!
Malcolm’s helmet flickered and warped repeatedly—shadow bleeding through before snapping back into armor.
The Barrier Gauge plummeted below half in seconds.
“Raaaaaaahhh!”
Malcolm howled and drove forward, wrapping his arms around Simon’s waist and tackling him to the ground. Once he’d secured mount position, Malcolm grinned wickedly and raised his fists.
‘Back.’
Simon’s Absolute Command came immediately.
Every piece of Bone Armor clinging to Malcolm’s body yanked him backward by his upper torso.
Malcolm never got the punch off—instead he took blow after blow from Simon and lost his mount entirely.
Spin.
Simon rose and pivoted, driving his leg in a vicious arc that raked across Malcolm’s abdomen. The impact sent him flying several meters.
“Gnngh! Agh! Arrrrgh!”
Malcolm gasped and wheezed, frustration twisting his face. He pushed himself up on his elbows, gritted his teeth, and tore open a Pocket Dimension.
‘No more holding back!’
What emerged was a fresh batch of Liquid Bombs—five bottles this time.
With a roar, Malcolm sprinted toward Simon and ignited the Potions he cradled with Dark Element fire.
‘At this range, not even Simon can escape.’
He wore Black Knight armor; Simon wore nothing but skin.
When the bombs detonated, both would take the blast—but only the one in Black Knight armor would walk away alive.
‘Attaching Bone Armor to me was your mistake, Simon!’
But.
Simon stood still with a bitter smile playing at his lips.
“You’re so predictable.”
An enemy consumed by rage and robbed of reason was the easiest prey of all.
Simon raised his index finger.
Screee!
Shiiing!
Scraaape!
Blades erupted from the Pocket Dimension in the floor, launching Malcolm skyward from ground to ceiling.
“Gahhh!”
Malcolm’s vision lurched wildly as the ground vanished beneath him. His body rocketed tens of meters into the air, and the Liquid Bombs in his arms blazed with fierce, blinding light.
“Simooooon!”
Malcolm’s scream twisted into the explosion that consumed his face.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-crash!
Ash-grey smoke billowed outward, followed by a deafening roar.
The spectators shielded their heads and ducked. The blast had punched a hole clean through the Arena’s ceiling, opening it to the sky and letting the wind whistle through.
Moments later, Malcolm—his Black Knight armor completely shattered—plummeted through the smoke cloud. Simon raised his right arm.
Screeeee!
Four blades caught the falling Malcolm and pinned him hard against the wall. Simon let out a long, relieved breath—the finishing blow struck true.
[Malcolm Randolph: 0%]
[Simon Polentia: 79%]
The Referee raised his arm.
“The winner! Simon Polentia of Class A!”
Roooooaaaaaarrrrr!
Cheers erupted from all sides like an explosion.
“Absolutely dominant. This year’s special provisional first-ranker is the real deal!”
“Kizen must be an endless spring. It’s amazing how monsters like that keep popping up every year.”
“That’s seventeen years old? I’m getting a reality check.”
Adults spattered saliva as they dissected the match and laughed, while scouts scribbled frantically with quill pens or activated communication crystals to contact their headquarters.
“We need to change our recruitment priority immediately, sir.”
“You idiots aren’t doing your jobs properly? We said he hadn’t done any advanced training! And he was using Bone Armor too, you lunatics!”
A record-breaking prospect had appeared—no, a new star had been born.
“Damn it, Malcolm got knocked down hard…!”
“The first-ranker landed a solid blow.”
“Betting is all luck. Ha ha ha!”
The second-years laughed with mixed feelings and accepted their betting losses.
“When the money comes in, I’ll treat you, Simon!”
“Simon! That was amazing!”
The members of Team 7 cheered noisily, waving their hands toward Simon. He smiled and waved back at them.
“I’ll prepare for the next match.”
The attendants began cleaning the Arena floor, and Simon returned to the Waiting Room. He received a quick check from the medical team waiting there and returned his Barrier Equipment.
Then, barely a few steps out of the Waiting Room and into the Corridor—
“Ah.”
He ran into someone wearing a Kizen School Uniform. Simon bowed his head.
“Hello, Senior.”
It was Andrew, the club president of the Nobles and the third prince of the Dresden Kingdom. His face was flushed red to the tips of his ears, and he was trembling.
“…Listen, do you even realize what you just did?”
“Yes, I just finished my Duel Evaluation.”
Bang!
Andrew slammed his fist hard against the wall. The clean surface cracked sharply, bearing scars as if a window had shattered.
“The Black Knight, symbol of the Dresden Royal Family, and you beat it down like some cheap fighter?”
“…”
“I don’t care if you’re stronger than Malcolm or not! But the moment Malcolm put on the Black Knight’s armor, you should have read the situation! Me! Or did you not see that the Dresden Royal Family stands behind Malcolm? You should have lost or forfeited, but you won instead? You crazy bastard! Is it really that hard to swallow your pride for once? You understand nothing of how to conduct yourself? Are you really a noble at all?”
Andrew’s eyes blazed red as he roared.
“You’ve dishonored the Royal Family!”
“…Uh, yes. I apologize.”
Simon scratched his head once, then shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, to be honest.”
“What?”
“Of all the things I’ve heard in my life, that’s the most illogical thing I’ve ever heard anyone say.”
Simon placed a hand on his school uniform and spoke quietly.
“This is Kizen. We must act as Kizen demands.
Andrew’s expression went blank. What was this bastard saying? Was he really talking to him like this?
“Whether you give Malcolm the Black Knight’s armor is your choice as a senior, but defeating it is my duty as a Kizen student committed to giving my best in competition. Bringing up royal dishonor over that… isn’t that overstepping your bounds?”
“You lowborn wretch—!!”
Andrew raised his palm, and Simon stood his ground without moving.
Grab!
“Stop.”
A hand shot out from behind and caught Andrew’s wrist. Small and delicate though it was, Andrew’s pupils trembled as if he’d been struck by enormous force.
“How much further will you demean yourself? Brother.”
It was Molly, Princess of the Dresden Kingdom.
Andrew flinched and stepped back, then forced out an awkward laugh.
“M-Molly! When did you arrive at Kizen? Ha ha! If you came, you should have told your brother…!”
“I suspected as much.”
She placed her hands on her hips and fixed Andrew with a sharp stare.
“You diverted the armor of the Black Knight, symbol of the Royal Knight Order, and handed it to the son of a criminal organization, then acted as though it were your own power… It seems to me the one who’s dishonored the Royal Family is you.”
Simon blinked in surprise at the unexpected scene. The third prince was being rendered speechless by his youngest sister.
“Do you even know what kind of punishment the Black Knight received for losing his armor because of your actions? And to conduct yourself like this in front of elders from other nations… I’m going to report this incident to Father.”
Andrew panicked and grabbed at Molly’s sleeve.
“Molly! Have you forgotten who I am? I’m Andrew! Your brother Andrew!! Don’t you know what will happen to me if Father hears about this? Please…!”
“Then you shouldn’t have acted this way in the first place.”
She signaled toward the back, and someone walked quietly in her direction.
“Ah……!”
Andrew’s face trembled as though seized by a spasm.
“You’ve done well, brother.”
The figure who emerged was none other than a female student dressed in a maid’s uniform—the very same one Andrew had treated like a servant.
“How brazen, threatening a Kizen student like this. You knew her father works in the royal gardens, so you blackmailed her, didn’t you?”
“No, no, that’s not……!”
“I will apologize directly to Neftis and explain everything truthfully.”
Her gaze turned glacial.
“You know how much she cherishes her students, don’t you? I would rather die than see our kingdom become like the Talhern Empire.”
“Yes, yes! Exactly!”
Andrew spoke in agitation.
“Why stir things up? If Neftis finds out, if Mother finds out—there’s nothing good in it for anyone! It’s not too late now. We can just bury this……!”
Crack!
Andrew’s head snapped to the side.
Both Simon, who had been watching quietly, and the female student in the maid’s uniform gasped in shock.
“Still spouting nonsense, I see.”
She lowered her hand, her expression one of pure disgust.
“We’ve gone too far to cover this up. The stench of your filth is already spreading through all of Kizen.”
……
“I have no choice but to clean up your mess myself. I’ve arranged a carriage outside—leave my sight this instant.”
Andrew, despite being a second-year student at the renowned Kizen, could not utter a single word of protest against Molly—a woman without a Core, ordinary though she was.
Watching Andrew shuffle away, Simon felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him.
“You’re Simon Polentia, a first-year student at Kizen, correct?”
Princess Molly’s gaze turned toward Simon.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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