Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 240

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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 240
“I’m going in right now.”
Lorain dropped into a crouch, summoning her Darkness Weapon, ready to burst forward at any moment.
The servants cried out in alarm, trying to stop her.
“No, please! That won’t do!”
“Wait, miss. Rushing in now won’t gain us anything.”
One particularly composed servant stepped forward and spoke.
Lorain tilted her head, signaling him to continue.
“Our goal is to find evidence of Serne Eindark’s crimes. Even if we storm in and confront her now, she’ll simply remove the feather embedded in Simon’s body and claim she’s done nothing wrong.”
“……So you’re telling me to just watch while Simon is being controlled like this—body and mind?”
Simon, caught under Mind Domination, had become Serne’s puppet. Against his own will, he moved at her command, his emotions exploited with every breath.
As his friend, it was almost unbearable to witness.
Yet the servant spoke with cold clarity.
“A necessary sacrifice, miss.”
At the word “sacrifice,” Lorain’s pupils flashed crimson.
Several servants took sharp breaths and stepped back, but the one speaking to her held his ground.
“You must see the forest, not just the tree. If we don’t expose her crimes now and break this cycle, she’ll keep targeting Simon. He could suffer this way for the entire duration of his time at Kizen. Is it truly your wish to see Simon fall into such misery?”
“…….”
At last, Lorain withdrew her Darkness Weapon. The servant exhaled deeply, relief flooding through him.
“Just a little longer.”
In the heavy silence, she ground her teeth together.
“I’ll watch. And wait.”

* * *
Simon and Serne played the part of a couple convincingly as they strolled through Langoustin.
Simon was well-versed in the formal etiquette of escorting, but he’d never experienced a casual street date quite like this.
And since Serne remained a burdensome companion, the mental drain was considerable.
‘……I’m exhausted. I wish those Ivory Tower followers would just leave.’
Simon let his eyes drift sideways, but he could still make out the figures tailing them from a distance.
“Simon, Simon! Can we do that?”
Serne was clearly enjoying herself. Somehow, shopping had fallen by the wayside, and the outing had become nothing more than a leisurely exploration of Langoustin’s streets.
“We should probably go get those clothes…….”
“Come on, hurry!”
Simon was seized and dragged along by her.
‘Why is she so excited about all this?’
Where she led him was a typical carnival game stall—the kind where you threw balls to knock down dolls and win prizes. Business seemed brisk; several couples crowded around.
“Welcome!”
The shop owner came bounding out with a broad smile.
“Will you both be trying a round?”
“Oh, I’m not very good at these things, so I’ll just watch~”
Serne demurred prettily, pressing a ball into Simon’s hand.
Confusion flickered across Simon’s face.
‘But you’re the one who wanted to come here.’
“Wait—are you perhaps a Necromancer, sir?”
Simon was taken aback at being recognized so readily. He simply nodded in acknowledgment.
“Then this way, Necromancer!”
Whoosh—
Suddenly the cloth backdrop behind the dolls billowed and withdrew, revealing a second game board nearly twice as far away. The figurines there were also significantly smaller.
‘So that’s how it is.’
Simon let out a wry laugh.
“Black Magic is prohibited—will you take the challenge?”
“I’ll give it a try.”
He didn’t refuse challenges.
Simon turned back to Serne.
“What do you want to win?”
“That white bear over there!”
Crack—
Simon immediately spread his legs to shoulder width, set his stance, and raised his knee.
He brought the ball cradled in both hands back over his head, then swept it down across his chest before extending his legs forward and hurled the ball with all his strength.
Whoosh—
Pure strength honed through Territory Contests and Combat Magic.
The sound wasn’t of a ball being tossed—it was like a cannonball being fired. Ordinary passersby startled and stared at Simon.
Whoosh!
The ball barely grazed the edge of the doll and shot past. Simon clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“So close! Keep at it!”
Serne cheered, waving her arms.
He hadn’t given it much thought at first, but now that he’d started, a stubborn competitive edge rose in him. Someone was cheering him on, and there were plenty of eyes watching.
He decided to give it his best.
Simon’s face grew serious. He seized another ball and hurled it the same way.
Crash! This time the ball struck the doll’s ear and tumbled away.
“Oh, so close!”
The Shop Owner built up the atmosphere. A strange smile played at Simon’s lips.
‘I see how this works now.’
He’d caught on, though some of the wind had left his sails. He still threw the final ball with full effort.
This time he struck the doll’s side squarely, but it still refused to topple. The Shop Owner burst into hearty laughter.
“Ha ha! That last throw was almost there! Care for another round?”
“No, I’m done. That was fun though.”
Simon turned away without hesitation. Serne pulled out a coin, looking reluctant to leave.
“Then I want to try next!”
It was painfully obvious that Serne’s athletic coordination would never land a hit. Simon tried to talk her out of it, but she’d already paid the Shop Owner.
“Simon, go buy me some Ice Cream, would you?”
“What? You just ate some.”
“I want more! Oh! The Ice Cream vendor is leaving!”
As she continued pestering him, Simon had no choice but to go buy Ice Cream.
Hup!
Left alone, she bounced in place and threw the ball with a completely haphazard stance, flailing her limbs wildly. The ball didn’t even go straight—it bounced off the ground and tumbled away.
Laughter rang out from all around.
“That’s adorable, miss.”
“Give it your all!”
The men watching chuckled as they spoke.
As Simon, who’d gone to buy Ice Cream, disappeared into the crowd, Serne’s lips curved into a sly smile. She gathered her long, golden hair and swept it back.
A white Feather fell from within her locks, and she palmed it along with the ball, unnoticed by anyone.
She bounced once more and threw the ball again.
Everyone watching assumed it would fail, just like before.
Thundercrack!
The ball suddenly erupted in lightning, transforming into a brilliant bolt of radiance that tore through the air.
“What—?”
People’s faces went slack with shock.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-crash!
When the ball struck the doll’s center, the wooden floor beneath it suddenly shattered, and a massive iron post came shooting up from the wreckage.
The doll hadn’t simply been placed on a display stand—it was bolted down with metal.
The ball didn’t stop at exposing the floor. It tore through the back wall and reduced the warehouse building to rubble entirely.
……
……
Crash-crash-crash-crash-crash!
Black dust engulfed the entire area.
The Shop Owner stood frozen, mouth agape, eyes darting in panic as Serne approached. Terror seized him.
“You do enjoy tormenting Necromancers, don’t you?”
She smiled sweetly and pulled a coin purse from her Subspace, letting it drop at the Shop Owner’s feet.
“That’s for repairs. Prosper well.”
Her golden hair flowed behind her as she walked away.
Just then, Simon arrived with two Ice Creams in hand, and Serne greeted him with the graceful gait of a perfect lady, as if nothing had happened.
“What in the world just happened?”
“No idea! Must be broken!”
Once the pair had vanished, the Shop Owner collapsed onto the ground.
His trousers were damp with moisture.

* * *
They visited several clothing shops. But Serne found nothing satisfactory and left after only a cursory look through each one.
Noticing that Simon was beginning to wear out, Serne showed flexibility and stopped at a Necromancer shop that she knew he enjoyed.
Simon’s concentration came alive instantly, like a fish meeting water.
“I’ll take that.”
As Simon lingered long before the Skeleton Archer Set, Serne spoke up.
“No, I’m buying this with my own money!”
“I promised to cover the shopping expenses.”
Before Simon could protest, Serne was already at the counter, payment in hand.
Perhaps because she was wealthy, she had a habit of paying first and asking questions later.
“Customer, I’m sorry, but we only have one set of the vanilla brand left in stock.”
The shop clerk said, checking the inventory.
“What about other brands?”
It had to be vanilla. When Simon looked at the clerk with that expression, the clerk handed over a clipboard and pen.
“If you write down your address, we’ll deliver it within two days.”
“Is Rocksum possible?”
“Of course!”
Since the shop was cramped and crowded, Simon and Serne decided to step outside to fill out the form.
“Ugh, what terrible handwriting.”
The clerk had written it directly, but the letters were so hastily scrawled they were hard to read.
Serne, who had been checking her makeup in a hand mirror, pointed to one section.
“I think this is where you write the name. Below that is the address.”
“Ah, right.”
Just as Simon nodded and was about to move the quill pen—
Boom-boom-boom!
Without warning, black shells came raining down from the sky and exploded.
Flames shot up from the buildings as people screamed and fled in panic.
“Ahhhhh!”
“Terrorism! It’s a terrorist attack!”
The peaceful atmosphere of the everyday shattered, and the streets transformed into chaos in seconds.
“What’s happening?”
Simon leaped to his feet.
Thud!
The moment he stood, a red dagger drove straight into the document he’d been about to write on.
“Oh ho, and here I was wondering when you’d show yourself.”
Serne smiled coolly and conjured a feather from her fingertips.
She threw it, and with a sharp clash in the air, the dagger was neutralized and fell to the ground.
“Step back, Simon.”
Then a blood-red flash of light streaked down like a meteor.
Serne drew out multiple feathers and scattered them in front of her. A massive explosion erupted with loud crashes in midair.
As Simon stumbled backward in shock, two girls locked dagger and feather face-to-face in the heart of the blast.
“Get Simon!”
Sparks flew in the eyes of the black-haired attacker.
“What are you trying to make him write!”
Simon’s eyes widened in shock.
“Lo—Lorain?”
Behind her, servants in black robes descended one by one.
Though surrounded in an instant, Serne smiled serenely, utterly at ease.
“I’ve been annoyed by you peeking around like a thieving cat, so I was wondering when you’d finally come down.”
This time, dark magic—fire and lightning—rained down from the sky on Serne’s side. Lorain and the servants quickly withdrew and dodged.
“Ah!”
They were the Ivory Tower’s surveillance agents.
It seemed they had all survived, having blocked the initial barrage with protection magic.
“I’ll handle Serne myself.”
Lorain turned to the servants and spoke.
The servants nodded and rushed toward the Ivory Tower’s agents. At the same time, Lorain and Serne clashed, and thunderous impacts erupted in succession. Feathers and daggers collided in a dazzling display.
“Actually, your surveillance lately has been getting on my nerves. I should teach you better manners.”
Serne added, fitting multiple feathers onto her fingers.
“I’ll turn you into a dog and have you lick my boot.”
“You’ll have a hole in your throat before that happens!”
Kizen and the Ivory Tower clashed unexpectedly in the street.

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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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