Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 142

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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 Genius of the Necromancer School — Episode 142
“A mark only you can recognize? What’s that?”
Kazan asked, his eyes bright with curiosity.
“Well, it’s like this.”
Simon’s story drifted back into the past.
During his fight with Priest in the Forbidden Forest, he’d picked up a stone from the ground, infused it with Deep Black Bestowal, and thrown it.
—Land! Show your face!
He remembered throwing it then with genuine desperation.
Priest hadn’t expected Simon to counterattack and tilted his head a moment too late. The impact tore a small section of the hood’s edge. Blood appeared.
“Blood.”
At that moment, Simon had glimpsed crimson staining the edge of Priest’s hood.
“Priest should have a scar on his cheek.”
Of course, a Potion would have healed the wound, but Simon thought that if the cut had been deep enough, a faint scar might linger.
Kazan crossed his arms, lost in thought—apparently recalling the faces of suspects from the case file, searching for anyone bearing a cheek scar.
And the result was.
“Ambiguous,” Kazan shook his head.

“The scar might not have left a mark at all, and there are plenty of ways to hide one. Besides, you can’t pin down a culprit on a single scar alone.”
“…Yes, that’s true.”
Simon had already checked several people, but found no real suspects.
That was when Kazan opened a pocket dimension and pulled out a pair of small glasses.
“Just in case. Take these.”
“What is it?”
“Something I’ve carried with me ever since I fell into Priest’s trap.”
Simon immediately put on the glasses. They didn’t seem to have a prescription, but his vision became cloudy.
“With those on, you can see the real face beneath a Biomask. If he’s wearing a Biomask to hide the scar, it’ll show.”
“Oh, that’s useful.”
The odds of pinpointing Priest with these alone were low, but it was better than nothing.
Simon tucked the glasses carefully into his pocket.

* * *
Kizen’s busy routine resumed once more.
Practical Assessment preparation, Duel Evaluation preparation, and Final Exam studying scheduled for months ahead.
“Ah! Truly magnificent!”
Professor Bahil of Curse Studies clapped his hands in applause.
He’d called Simon up to the front and had him write a Curse Equation on the board. Now he was explaining at length to the class how perfect, creative, and original Simon’s equation was.
“Simon, why did you exclude the Vibration Formula from Sickness?”
“Ah… well.”
Simon scratched the side of his head.
He hesitated between making something up or being honest, but decided on honesty.
“I didn’t fully understand the Vibration Formula, so I tried restructuring it by adding the Imbalance Formula instead.”
Scattered laughter rippled through the classroom.
“Special Case 1 doesn’t even know the Vibration Formula.”
“He’s only good at Summoning. No fundamentals at all.”
Hector’s faction chimed in on cue. But then.
“Brilliant! Extraordinary!”
Bahil’s excitement surged.
“Because he hasn’t done advanced study! Because his mind is like a blank canvas, unburdened by formulas and equations! That’s precisely why such original thinking becomes possible!”
Bang, bang!
Bahil tapped the board enthusiastically as words poured forth.
“Motion Sickness must obviously use the Vibration Formula—thinking that way itself shows a mind corroded by fixed assumptions! Motion sickness doesn’t arise from vibration alone. Humans experience nausea from the mismatch between what their bodies feel and visual information! The nausea you feel riding in a fast carriage on a paved road, the nausea from staring at a Mana screen for too long—these are exactly that type!”
Bahil went on to elaborate on the visual motion-sickness effect produced by the Imbalance Formula within the Sickness Curse.
“Truly magnificent. That’s how Curse Equations should be developed! Come now, applause!”
Clapping echoed throughout the room. Simon, overwhelmed by such praise, lowered his head.
Bahil placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Your idea is excellent, Simon. But Curses live or die by casting speed, so for now, start slowly with the Vibration Formula.”
“Yes, sir!”
‘So we’re going with vibration after all!’
The Curse-track students protested silently, but didn’t dare voice it aloud.
Bahil gave Simon an affectionate pat on the back as he returned to his seat.
‘You’re practically drooling over him, Professor.’
Chehekl, the senior teaching assistant standing below the lecture platform, sighed.
It was a one-sided infatuation—Kizen’s professor directing all his attention toward his student. A rare sight, certainly.
‘Still, watching even Bahil himself squirming with anticipation like this…… has its own peculiar charm.’
But in moments like these, one could never let their guard down. Bahil was the sort of man who could accelerate without warning, at any moment.
In truth, at this point it wouldn’t have seemed strange if Bahil had simply placed a curse on Simon’s body and made him a puppet student, but he refrained from doing so out of concern that Simon’s genius might be damaged in the process.
“Chehekl.”
At the sound of Bahil’s voice, she jumped and turned her head.
“Yes, Professor.”
“Have the assistant conduct the rest of the practical session.”
How unusual. He always insisted on supervising the practical training himself for Class A lectures.
Even as these questions crossed her mind, Chehekl lowered her head.
“Understood.”
Bahil strode briskly from the room, and Chehekl climbed onto the lecture platform.
“Fifteen minutes of rest, then we’ll begin the practical exercise. Assistants, gather in front of me.”

* * *
After conducting the practical session and bringing the class to a successful close, Chehekl made her way to Bahil’s office. She knocked lightly with the back of her hand.
“Professor, it’s Chehekl.”
…….
There was no invitation to enter, but Chehekl, familiar with his habits, opened the door and stepped inside.
And she stopped short. Across the entire wall at the back of the office loomed an enormous blackboard, and Bahil was moving his chalk like a man possessed, scrawling formulas in an endless stream.
‘He’s triggered into one of his episodes.’
Chehekl waited in silence, her hands clasped together.
Another hour passed, and with the blackboard now densely covered in formulas, Bahil wiped sweat from his brow and turned to face her.
“When did you arrive, Chehekl?”
“An hour ago.”
“How did the class go?”
“Went smoothly. But what is that formula you’ve been working on?”
Bahil grinned and struck the blackboard with a sharp tap.
“I heard that the recent attacks by wild harpies have been giving the Dresden Kingdom quite a headache. It’s a Sickness curse applied to aerial monsters.”
Her eyes widened.
“A new version of Remake Sickness?”
“Exactly! Aerial monsters, it turns out, are surprisingly resistant to Sickness curses containing vibration formulas. That’s because the original curse was designed only with humans in mind, disregarding a harpy’s sense of balance. So I’ve created an entirely new curse utilizing cross-directional vertigo!”
Bahil’s fingers danced as he spoke.
“A mismatch between visual and vestibular information! With this formula, when harpies attempt to fly forward, they’ll feel as though they’re plummeting downward instead. The reverse applies equally! The more the harpies try to fly, the more overwhelming this disorientation will become, until finally they’ll succumb to violent nausea and crash to the ground.”
…….
He really was an eccentric, even perverse in his genius—but that ability was genuine. As a student of Curse Studies, Chehekl felt a purely professional admiration.
“Wait, then your praise for Simon just now…… wasn’t just flattery?”
“Ha! After working with me for all these years, you still don’t understand me, Chehekl?”
Bahil settled onto the arm of the sofa, raising both hands in emphasis.
“Every word of praise I give him is absolutely sincere!”
…….
“His approach to formulas is fundamentally different from ordinary students! His thinking is slightly twisted in some way! Hearing his answers actually inspires me as well!”
Bahil continued, his breath coming in excited bursts.
“On the first day of Elementary Black Magic, during Professor Jane’s test, he derived 1,200,146 without resorting to the ancient runic language of Deep Black Mechanics, the Instance Skeleton Formula of Summoning, or the Exhaustro Theron Formula of Curse Studies—wasn’t that an issue among the faculty? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”
Tap! Tap!
Bahil struck the sofa arm rhythmically with his fingertips.
“His creativity in manipulating formulas reminds me of a spring that bounces in unpredictable directions! If the reason his parents didn’t provide advance instruction was to grant originality to the moment his genius would explode…… ah! I would feel not merely respect but something approaching fear for their conviction and resolve!”
“Yes, yes, Professor, I understand what you’re saying.”
He seemed ready to bow toward the direction where Simon’s parents were. Chehekl lifted her clipboard and spoke.
“So, what’s the name of this new Remake Sickness?”
“Hmm.”
Bahil paused thoughtfully before answering.
“Simon Sickness……”
“That’s terrible.”
Bahil let out a short laugh and rose from his seat. Then his expression sobered abruptly.
“Silarji is making a move.”
…….
“I hear that recent research into SM-1 blood type has been showing tangible results.”
Simon had found no interest whatsoever in his Blood Studies classes.
Simon’s SM-1 Blood Type was a new variant that didn’t exist anywhere in the world. It was a completely different form from existing blood techniques, and since it hadn’t been researched yet, Silarji had no way to teach him.
So Silarji had mobilized his apprentices scattered across the continent to conduct research, and now the fruits of their labor were finally beginning to emerge.
“I estimate it will take Silarji about two weeks to complete the SM-1 curriculum for Simon,” she said.
“That’s a crisis.”
Chehekl spoke flatly.
“Exactly. A crisis! And on top of that, Professor Hong Peng’s counterattack is terrifying!”
Bahil interlaced his fingers and spoke heavily.
“I heard she’s started teaching Internal Deep Black Manifestation in her Martial Arts Studies class. Why is she pushing the pace so aggressively? Just as expected, Simon was the only one in that class to master the manifestation! She’s clearly trying to accelerate Simon’s martial skills!”
Chehekl narrowed her brows.
“Well, from what I’ve heard, the student Simon apparently rejected an offer to become Professor Hong Peng’s direct apprentice.”
At that, Bahil burst out laughing loudly.
“You believe such obvious bluffing? Even if the rumor were true, Hong Peng isn’t the kind of woman to give up so easily. Everyone’s fooled by her awkward continental accent and innocent expression, but she’s actually extremely persistent and greedy.”
“On top of existing Summoning, now Martial Arts Studies and Blood Studies too…….”
The competition gathered around a single student is insane. Chehekl sighed deeply and looked up at him.
“But Professor Bahil? Didn’t you say it yourself during Simon and Malcom’s Duel Evaluation last time? That there was no need to be impatient, that this talent would eventually fall into your hands. I’m thinking you must have had a reason for making such a bold claim.”
“Of course there is, Chehekl!”
Bahil walked to the edge of the blackboard and pulled a cord. Several layers of papers tumbled down in a heap below it.
“I’m creating a curse made exclusively for my Simon.”
“……Ugh, I hate that phrasing.”
“A new ‘Simon Original’ that I bestow upon him! I intend to display a caliber completely different from that flimsy Bone Armor nonsense!”
Looked at objectively, Simon was currently excelling through Summoning. He’d even crushed Special Case 1 in the Duel Evaluation.
That Simon showed little interest in growing in other disciplines was, in a sense, natural.
Concentrating on his strength rather than unnecessarily expanding his arsenal of attacks was a wise decision for a student.
“I’ve decided to understand him! Isn’t that right? Why bother weakening someone with a curse when he can defeat everyone just standing in place and wielding the Overlord? It would be unnecessary trouble!”
So Bahil changed direction.
He needed not to emphasize combat prowess, but rather a completely new curse—a gambit to capture the student’s interest.
“Once this research is complete, I’m confident Simon will become mine! But time is the problem here.”
Bahil rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Will Silarji establish the framework of SM-1 first, or will I finish developing the Simon Original curse first?”
Chehekl laughed as if at a loss for words.
“If the student Simon found out, he’d be thrilled to death. All the professors of Kizen are trying so hard to look good in front of him. Why on earth are they going to such lengths?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Bahil shrugged.
“The gains we’d receive if he became our apprentice far outweigh our efforts.”
Bahil’s lips curved into a long smile.
“Probably many times over, in fact.”

* * *
After Curse Studies class, Simon’s Team 7 all headed to the cafeteria together.
The four of them sat down as plates of the day’s limited menu—hamburger steak sets—were placed before them.
Kamibarez smiled brightly.
“Phew! That was close today! There were only two spots left!”
“Right.”
Dick propped his chin on his hand and stabbed a french fry with his fork.
“Kids’ information is spreading faster and faster. Looks like a new community was created that I don’t know about—I should probably investigate it.”
“Making a fuss over nothing.”
Merin snorted dismissively as she cut her hamburger steak.
And yet she ate the daily special with the most relish.
“But.”
Simon glanced around.
“Doesn’t the atmosphere feel a bit off?”
“Y-you’re right.”
Both the students and the teaching assistants who’d come to eat were murmuring with tense expressions.
Dick stood up saying “Just a moment” and went to pick up some gossip.
“Is something wrong?”
“Did Efnel’s side drop something? A preemptive strike or something?”
“N-no way!”
Just then Dick came rushing back to the group, sweat pouring down his face.
“Dick! What’s going on?”
“Whew, that’s certainly big news.”
Dick swept his hair back, his expression troubled.
“Professor Lang from Toxicology Studies has passed away.”

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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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