Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 13

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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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The Summoning Prodigy of the Necromancer School — Episode 13
“Hello? I’m sorry to bother you while you’re sleeping.”
“…….”
There was no answer. Simon spoke again.
“We’d like to use this room as well. Would that be all right with you?”
“…….”
Again, silence. Lena, who had followed him in, trembled and clutched at Simon’s sleeve.
“L-let’s just go, Simon. That person is definitely…….”
But then it happened.
Between the parted blankets, bloodshot red eyes glared down at them. Dick swallowed hard, and Lena shuffled backward with a frightened face.
“……New students.”
At last the blankets were pulled back, and a man sat up with a rustling sound.
“So the opening ceremony was today…… already turned out like this.”
His frame was lean, yet muscle lay on him in an almost architectural precision. His eyes were sharp, and a vivid scar bisected his right eye, which was still bloodshot. Smaller scars were scattered across his bare chest and torso.
A dangerous person.
That was the immediate impression they all shared. When he fixed them with his stare, Dick and Lena each grabbed one of Simon’s arms.
“……Drop the senior business. I’m first year too.”
“Then, Karshan…….”
“Just call me Karshan.”
When he swept his bangs upward, that ominous gaze was fully revealed.
It was the kind of look that seemed ready to draw a blade and beat someone to death at any moment—utterly impossible to attribute to a teenager.
“I don’t know how long you three will last at this school, but remember two things. First, don’t poke your noses into what I’m doing. Second, don’t make noise before I fall asleep. Once I’m out, dance, sing—do whatever you want.”
“……Ah! So you’re allowing it, then?”
“Allowing? There are no empty rooms anyway. Someone’s going to end up in here regardless.”
Karshan lay back down on the bed and pulled the blankets over himself.
“…….”
Shortly after, steady breathing sounded, and Karshan was asleep.
Simon and Dick exchanged glances and stepped outside. Lena, the last to leave, carefully closed the door.
“We’ll take this room.”
In the end, they decided on Room 409. Lena asked with concern in her voice.
“Are you really sure about this?”
“Yes, it’s fine. He doesn’t seem like such a bad person.”
Lena nodded and made a checkmark on her list. Then she inserted a nameplate bearing both their names into the case on the door.
“All right, Room 409 it is! If anything happens later—if that person gives you any trouble—please let me know. I’ll report it to the Dormitory Supervisor immediately and have it handled.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
After parting ways with Lena, Simon and Dick began unpacking their belongings, each claiming a spot. Dick chose the space nearest the door, while Simon took the inner position, relatively closer to Karshan.
As the two moved things around, there were noises, but Karshan lay like the dead and didn’t stir. Only the occasional quiet breath could be heard.
“Is that guy really not waking up?”
Dick suddenly found his nerve and dropped a textbook on the floor to test it.
The sound crashed with a Bang! but Karshan remained oblivious, still fast asleep.
“……He said once he’s asleep, do whatever we want—dance, sing. And he meant it.”
“He doesn’t seem like a bad person.”
The two finished unpacking with considerably lighter hearts.
“Simon! Let’s go take a shower. I saw there’s a bathhouse on the second floor on the way up.”
“A bathhouse?”

* * *
This was Simon’s first time at a public bathhouse.
The facility, which could accommodate over a hundred people at once, had floors and walls gleaming like gold everywhere. In the basin, steaming hot spring water flowed continuously.
Simon stood beneath the stream of water that came from the ceiling when he pressed a button, then soaked in the gently bubbling pool to wash away his fatigue.
“Ah, this is wonderful.”
After the bath was finished, on his way out—
Simon climbed the stairs with a towel draped around his neck, his expression drowsy. Dick laughed out loud.
“First time I’ve seen someone actually amazed by a shower stall. Where’d you come from—the mountains?”
“Close enough.”
Simon answered while rubbing his damp hair dry with a towel.
“Heh, but come on—don’t go around going “Wow! Wow!” every time you press the shower button, yeah? News travels faster than you’d think around here.”
“Did I really do that?”
“You really did.”
The two made their way back to their room in the Dormitory.
Karshan remained asleep in the same position, as if time itself had frozen. Through the window, an impenetrable darkness stretched across the sky.
After showering, Simon felt drowsy as he stretched out on the soft bed.
An exclamation escaped his lips unbidden. It seemed as though all the world’s comfort was gathered in this place.
“Ah, I really made the right choice coming to Kizen.”
Dick chuckled at his words.
“Everyone wants to come to Kizen. Though whether we stay depends on our grades.”
“I heard there are only three hundred second-year students now.”
“That’s right. We’re still in the Student Protection Period, so the professors go easy on us. But soon enough—fail your grades, you’re out. Show no promise, you’re out. Break the rules, you’re out. Life at Kizen is pure survival.”
Dick propped the back of his head on his arm, gazing up at the ceiling.
“Just surviving until the end of first year opens doors almost anywhere. And if you somehow claw your way through the mad competition to actually graduate from here… well, then you become part of the generation that shapes the continent itself. Practically anything becomes possible, except maybe being royalty. Though, come to think of it, would some minor kingdom offer up a princess to a Kizen graduate?”
Simon let out a soft laugh.
“You want to be a noble?”
“Not really. Sure, being a noble would spare me disrespect and make life easier, but that’s not my real goal.”
“Then what is?”
Dick made a coin shape with his fingers.
“This.”
……
For someone simply saying he wanted to make money, Dick’s expression seemed far too complicated.
Still, since they’d only just met today, Simon decided not to probe any deeper.
While Dick sat lost in thought for a moment, Simon channeled magical power into the Ring on his finger.
The Ring turned black, and Simon pulled the handle. A Subspace opened from the floor, and out tumbled a complete skeleton set of an Island Rat-Man—course materials he’d purchased in Cambelord.
“Oh! What’s that? What just happened?”
“Subspace.”
Simon answered simply and dropped to his knees in front of the skeleton set.
He opened the case and pulled out the wrapped bones. Running his fingers across the surface and sniffing them, he found they were immaculately clean and properly sterilized. A Bone Blueprint was included at the bottom of the case.
Dick made a face of exasperation.
“……Class ended how long ago, and you’re studying again?”
“Just wanted to hold onto that feeling. Didn’t want to forget it.”
The match with Hector during Summoning Studies class.
So much had happened all at once that Simon wanted to recreate that extraordinary sensation one more time.
First, he poured Pitch-Black Magic into the magic circle drawn on the skull, awakening the Undead.
Click. Clack.
The skull moved to life, its jaw and palate clacking against each other.
An Undead created through Summoning Magic treats the wielder of Pitch-Black Magic as its master.
Simon closed his eyes slowly and drew his Synchronization Power with the Undead upward. Countless sensations began to settle in his mind.
‘This time, by instinct alone.’
Simon picked up bones numbered five, seven, and ten, fitting them into the skull. With just a touch of pressure, the bones snapped into place satisfyingly on their own.
He built the spine, formed the torso, and extended down through the legs. Dick watched, mouth agape, as Simon assembled the bones seamlessly and swiftly.
“……Done!”
After thirty minutes of work, he had recreated the four-legged Irregular Skeleton from class.
But unlike during the lesson, it had taken much longer, and the legs seemed unstable—the skeleton’s gait was stiff and unnatural.
A matter of focus and immersion.
Building the skeleton in comfort without stress yielded inferior results compared to class.
Still, Simon was satisfied that he’d managed to recreate the work.
Simon gently touched the Undead’s skull and spoke.
“Sorry.”
Then he tightened his fingers and collapsed the skeleton’s torso.
Crash!
The assembled bones scattered in all directions, landing on the bed, the desk, the windowsill, and inside the wardrobe. Dick yelped in alarm.
“What are you doing? You just built it—what a waste!”
Simon closed his eyes and drew up his focus. Sweat began to drip down his freshly washed head.
Skeletons formed through Summoning Magic possess an inherent property—they seek to restore their previous form. The official term is “Restoration Power,” though those in the field often call it “Pulling Force.”
Simon felt the Pitch-Black Magic contained in all fifty-three bones scattered throughout the room.
‘Restore!’
As Simon’s eyes snapped open, the bones scattered across the room shot through the air all at once, snapping into place on the skeleton’s body one after another.
While assembly from scratch had taken thirty minutes, reassembly back to its original form took only fifteen seconds.
Simon exhaled the breath he’d been holding and opened his eyes.
“……No matter how many times I see it, that’s impressive.”
Dick let out a hollow laugh, muttering to himself.
The restored skeleton approached and rubbed its head against Simon’s leg, seeking affection. Simon smiled and stroked the Undead gently.
Seizing the opportunity, Simon moved on to assembling the canonical Island Rat-Man Skeleton shown in the diagrams.
Rather than simply following the diagrams and connecting bones by number, he paused to consider why bone 11 came after 10, why the assembly sequence had crystallized into this particular order—and whenever he grasped something, he jotted it down in his notes.
This sequence was the orthodox method that necromancers had refined over centuries. Yet reaching this standard must have required countless trials and errors.
Every step had a reason; every decision held meaning. Each realization sent a shiver through him, and he felt profound gratitude for the knowledge and labor of those who came before.
Simon swapped bones 25 and 31, fitting them differently.
“Well?”
Simon ran several experiments. As the skeleton moved its arm, it clicked and rattled, then shook its head.
He’d learned that even when human anatomy suggested a more logical arrangement, the undead moved more effectively with a different configuration.
“……Nngh.”
Dick, who’d been dozing nearby, rubbed his eyes and sat up.
“Still at it? You’ve really gotten hooked on Summoning Studies.”
“Yeah, it’s fun.”
A smile curved Simon’s lips.
“I can’t wait for the next class.”
Dick yawned and returned to bed, but Simon’s night was far from over. He spread out the Summoning Theory Fundamentals and began serious study in earnest.
‘The fundamentals of the undead.’
Simon’s thirst remained unquenched.
The skeleton his father had used to aid the people of his domain.
The skeleton Lorain had used to subdue the gang members.
What was lacking in him compared to those two?
Crack!
Click!
Tap-tap.
He continued reflecting and reassembling repeatedly. The skeleton that had taken 15 seconds to restore could now be summoned in 10.
But this time something was different. Over the course of more than 70 reassemblies, a deep blue-black darkness began to bloom in the eye sockets of Simon’s skeleton.
This was a phenomenon that hadn’t appeared even during class.
Whoosh.
The skeleton with burning eyes turned its head and gazed down at Simon.
“…….”
Simon met the skeleton’s gaze.
Simon’s first day at the academy stretched on into the late night like this.

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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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